


like we're all gonna make it

by thedarknesswithin (babylxxrry)



Category: Original Work, Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: (by an original character to an original character), Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Dissociation, Existentialism, F/F, HOW WAS ANGST NOT ALREADY TAGGED THIS IS ANGSTY AF, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Knife fights, M/M, Major Character Injuries, Minor Character Death, Multi, PLEASE READ EACH CHAPTER'S BEGINNING NOTES BECAUSE OF INDIVIDUAL CHAPTER WARNINGS, Physical Abuse, Pining, can i just say this this is a lot fluffier and sweeter than it sounds from the tags, idk if it's really focused much on the apocalypse part though, it's //past//, it's more like centered around relationships and shit, lots of, minor character injuries, overreactions, past emotional abuse, scott overreacts to things, so much ot5, so much pining, there's a mention of what could be called, y'all should know that mitch is stronger than he looks right now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-07-12 11:10:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7100710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babylxxrry/pseuds/thedarknesswithin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can see the scenes of death and of sobs and of hopelessness tattooed on her eyelids, the same way they are on his, the way that whenever their eyes close, all they can see and dream of is death and pain and loss. He knows that no matter what, whoever ends up surviving this damned apocalypse will never forget the things they saw, the things they felt, and the things they dreaded happening that happened anyways. </p><p> </p><p>[or an apocalypse au where scott thinks too much, mitch doesn't trust anyone, kirstie is the sweetest badass to grace the world, avi knows more than he lets on, kevin is mysterious as all hell, and esther's the designated mom friend]</p><p> </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One: Waking Up to Ash and Dust

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this is my first time posting anything as a wip.... feedback is always appreciated and whether or not the next part will be up depends on what type of response this gets. 
> 
>  
> 
> title from one direction's a.m.  
> part titles from imagine dragons' radioactive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we meet scott

Scott reloads his gun with a sigh as he sits on the balcony of the building he’s just cleared. It was a small one- probably used to be a hotel of some sorts. There were only a couple of Bitten in the rooms, scavenging off of their dead comrades, and they had been easy kills. Most of his bullets had been wasted on shadows and his overactive imagination, which was a shame- ammo was hard to come by in these times. It wasn’t hard to find things to kill, but it was far too easy to imagine things, especially during the late evening, like now.

Footsteps from inside the room prompt Scott to his feet, gun at the ready. The steps don’t sound like the slow, dragging ones of a Biter, but rather, they’re quick and light.

“Who’s there?” Scott calls.

A little shriek, followed by a female voice, “Shit, you scared me!”

Scott lowers his gun as a petite blond girl comes into view, her hand tense on her own weapon. She relaxes when she sees Scott.

“Hey. I thought this place was quiet for the size of it. I was hoping to spend the night, but if you want me to go, I will.” The girl’s voice is out of place here. She seems to be a bubbly, happy thing, a sore thumb in the grey of the city.

“No, it’s fine. I cleared it before I came up here. I do it for most of the buildings I take a night in. I’m Scott, by the way.” Scott sticks out his hand to shake.

“Kirstin, but you can call me Kirstie.” Her handshake is strong, and Scott can tell from the little fire in her eyes that she’s tough.

“Cool. So, Kirstie, what brings you here to this city?” Scott settles back down with his back against the wall.

“Well, mainly this apocalypse,” she quips, “But nothing really. I was wandering and thought this place looked solid.”

“It’s actually pretty much the same for me. I don’t really know what I’m trying to do at this point. It’s not like I can just find a little white-picket-fence house with a nice girl and have a family. It’s the fucking apocalypse.”

Kirstie laughs. “Well, I can’t help you with that, unfortunately, seeing as I had- _have_ a boyfriend. We were separated when the first wave of those guys,” she gestures at the dead bodies of the Bitten sprawled over the street below them, “attacked and we had to evac. I couldn’t contact him after- his phone was probably dead. Mine was really close, like ten percent, anyways, and it’s been dead for months now.”

Scott nods in sympathy. His phone was probably smashed somewhere in another city when it fell out of his pocket as he was trying to climb the rubble of an abandoned factory.

“Yeah, so I dunno. It’s been rough,” Scott murmurs, staring out at the crumbling city before them. The sun is almost gone, the moon making her appearance far above them, untouched and pure, the way she was before the first wave and the way she is now and the way she’ll be until the earth dies. Then she’ll be just another meteor, another rock shooting at hypersonic speeds in the universe. Scott kind of likes the way that describes humans. They’re nothing but a tiny blip in the ever-changing fabric of time and space, a little dropped stitch in the tight knit of the thin sweater Scott’s wearing, the tiny gouge in the butt of Kirstie’s gun that she knows so well, yet not at all. The two of them right here, right now are but a single drop of water in the vast waves of moments that makes up the essence of what life is.

Kirstie nods solemnly, the mood having taken a 180 in a minute. Behind the tough spunkiness in her eyes, Scott can also see the loss of family, of friends. He can see the scenes of death and of sobs and of hopelessness tattooed on her eyelids, the same way they are on his, the way that whenever their eyes close, all they can see and dream of is death and pain and loss. He knows that no matter what, whoever ends up surviving this damned apocalypse will never forget the things they saw, the things they _felt_ , and the things they dreaded happening that happened anyways.

Kirstie sighs, pursing her lips and standing up. The sun’s gone by now, and they really should get to bed before the night Biters wake up. ( _Nighters_ , Scott’s twisted sense of humor fills in.) Scott says as such to Kirstie, who snorts somewhat darkly.

“Alright, so I locked all the first floor doors except the back one through the storage room-”

“That’s the one I came in through,” Kirstie cuts in.

“-and that has a bunch of shit in the room that the biters would have to get through in order to get to us. Safest rooms are probably the ones on this floor closer to the elevator and farther from the stairs. The elevator shaft and the stairs are both still sturdy, but the power is out like everywhere else so they’d have to drag themselves up the stairs which we both know they don’t like doing.”

“Nice. You have a good eye,” Kirstie comments approvingly. “It took me a few close calls to learn what to look for.”

“Yeah, no, me too. You have no idea the first time you open your eyes and-”

“-there’s a Biter staring you down,” Kirstie finishes for him.

“Exactly.”

They make their way down the hall with light steps and fingers tight to triggers, careful of any holes in the floor or rubble from the roof. Kirstie shoots into a room with its door already smashed in, neatly taking out a Biter that had somehow gotten into the building, which should be impossible, as they didn’t climb well at all.

“Scott. I’m gonna go clear the back wall.”

“I already did. It’s collapsed, though, isn’t it? How did it get in?”

Kirstie is already in the room. “Um, we might have a problem for the night, Scott,” her voice rings into the hall, alert and tentative.

“What’s up?”

“Looks like a few tried to climb the wall and crumbled it more. They basically made a giant mountain of rubble that they could practically walk right up.”

“Shit, that’s not good. Um, is it just to this room?” Scott goes to inspect the damage along with Kirstie.

“Nope. It’s this whole floor. At this point, if there’s a basement, that’s probably the safest.”

Scott frowns. As a rule of thumb, he doesn’t stay in basements because they usually have one way in (therefore, one way out), and if a Biter gets in, he can’t just up and run. The top levels are almost always the safest, considering that they can’t climb, but here, that’s not going to be possible.

“I know, I know,” Kirstie notes Scott’s expression, “I don’t stay in basements either, but unless you want to die or turn tonight, we have to.”

Scott turns away, resigned to his fate. “Alright. Let’s go before the nocturnal ones find us.”

Kirstie leads the way down the hall, gun still held in front of her, always vigilant. She kicks open the door to the stairs quietly and Scott catches it with his shoulder as he lets himself through and locks it behind him. He pulls a stray hunk of cement from the long-collapsed stairs going up to the roof and braces it against the door. If any Biter tried to get through, it’d have to work for it. He takes the stairs three at a time, trying not to land too hard and risk bringing the whole area in with him. He catches up with Kirstie in the lobby as she makes her way to a door marked “Basement: Staff Only.” The keypad was electronic and it died with the door locked, meaning Scott has to use one bullet to break the lock. It’s kind of a pity, because if it had been a manual lock, he could have just picked it.

There’s something vaguely suspicious about the door being locked, Scott notes as he follows Kirstie down the stairs. Most doors and windows were broken or had their locks busted fairly soon after the first wave.

Another locked door, this one steel, greets them at the end of the stairs. It had some type of keycard access, which kind of make Scott wonder what the hell the hotel stored down here.

Kirstie, after inspecting it, determines that all it needs is a good kick to open it. Scott has no idea how she determined that, but he’s going to trust her.

“Alright. I’ll kick it if you cover my back,” Scott says.

“Okay. Aim for about two inches above the handle if you can kick that high,” Kirstie replies.

Scott snorts. “Puh-lease, girlfriend, I know my shit.”

Shit. He kind of just sounded very gay. God knows what Kirstie will think of that.

“Oh, it’s on, bitch, you get one try at that door. If you don’t get it, I will,” Kirstie fires back without missing a beat.

Scott takes a breath and lets it out in a whoosh. He lifts his leg and kicks the door as hard as he can with his right foot. It shudders violently, a loud metal _CLANG_ echoing through the stairwell, but it doesn’t budge.

“Alright, then. My turn,” Kirstie laughs gleefully. She takes Scott’s place, kicking the door in two spots- the bottom left corner and an area a couple inches about the handle.

The door swings open into a foul-smelling, dark space.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> don't go into basements alone, kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the response to the last chapter was so much more than i expected, so thank you all so much!! here's the second chapter, in which things~ and people~ come into play.

Scott and Kirstie both recoil when the smell hits them, and Scott swallows down a retch. It’s cold, damp, some type of rotting-flesh-something that’s a common scent because most Biters carry it, but this is different. It’s more pungent, like there are multiple bodies that have been decaying for a while. Kirstie steps forward into the blackness and Scott follows, pausing a moment to let his eyes adjust to the new light levels. Neither of them have flashlights- Scott did for a few months in the beginning until it ran out of batteries. It’s really dark as all hell down here, so they’re going in blind.

He hears Kirstie step forward slowly, toeing her way forward until there’s a tiny little tap on what he assumes is the wall.

“So there’s left and right,” Kirstie whispers, “It’s a hallway, I think, from the little I can see.”

“Alright, d’you wanna split up, or stay together?” Scott shuffles forward until he can make out Kirstie’s form a couple feet in front of him.

“Um, let’s stay together- the smell is screaming that there’s at least fifteen of those fuckers, if not more. Keep a hand on the left wall and an eye on me.”

Scott nods even though Kirstie probably can’t see it and starts following her down the hall to the right. The left side seems to be just a door.

“Okay, there’s a door on my right- it’s closed,” Kirstie says after a few minutes of slow creeping. Scott hears a doorknob refuse to give way. “Locked, too.”

“Nothing on my side ye-” Scott’s hand hits a ledge. “Wait- I have a doorframe, but there’s no door. Should I go in?”

“You don’t know how big this room is, though. It could be huge,” Kirstie cautions. “I have a solar-charged flashlight strapped to my backpack- grab that and use it just to see.”

“Wait, you had a flashlight _this whole time_ and you didn’t use it?”

“Sorry, it’s really crappy and I try to avoid using it as much as possible because its battery is such shit.”

Scott unhooks the flashlight from Kirstie’s backpack and flicks it on, shining it into the room. The beam hits the back wall, which seems to be fairly close, so either the room is small, or it’s extremely short and wide.

“C’mon, let’s go in here,” Scott tugs at Kirstie’s arm.

“Hold on, gimme the flashlight.” She snatches the light back from Scott before he can reply, shining it forward into the hall. It falls on the end of the hallway and oddly-clean walls that reveal no other doorways. “Alright, then, guess we’re headed in there.”

Scott takes the flashlight and turns it off. They have to let their eyes adjust again before they can see a little, and Scott always hates that feeling. He hates it when they’re as good as blind in a fairly hostile situation, where the Bitten could easily find and kill them. This basement, though, doesn’t seem to have any of them, but the rotting flesh smell is just as strong, if not stronger, as when they came in. Scott doesn’t hear anything, but in this case, the silence is eerier than if there was noise. At least with noise, they would be able to tell if a threat was approaching. Thing is, in silence, there’s either nothing there, or something with new abilities has evolved- something that is self-aware and can walk silently. The thought makes Scott shudder.

Kirstie is staring at him, an unreadable look on her face. “What’s wrong, Scott? Usually you’d have said something by now.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. I was thinking about… things.”

“Things?”

“Things. Nothing you need to worry about, sis, but thanks for asking,” Scott makes it clear that this is the end of their conversation and he walks forward into the room, gun at the ready and shoulders tense again.

They clear the room quickly. It doesn’t contain much, just a few old crates and a pile of old hotel sheets that they’re probably going to sleep in tonight.

“Well? Should we settle down, or should we check out that room in the front and the other side of the hall?” Kirstie kicks at the pile of sheets, sending up a cloud of dust that makes her sneeze and wave her hands in front of her face.

“I dunno. I don’t really feel safe leaving it uninvestigated, but I also don’t wanna waste any more ammo on doors,” Scott murmurs, running over the pros and cons in his head.

“I can use my own, then, seeing as I don’t feel safe with it just being there either,” Kirstie shrugs, “So it’s up to you.”

“Yeah, let’s check it out.”

Kirstie leaves her backpack by the pile of sheets, just bringing her gun with her. Scott has one of his smaller pistols, an extra round of ammo, and the flashlight, so if they’re attacked by any number of Biters or anything else, there’s a very slim chance of them surviving.

Kirstie makes her way down the hall back to the locked door and the stairs that they came from. She shoots the lock, the sound of metal on metal ricocheting around in Scott’s head even though he’s heard it so many times before. Kirstie kicks the door open- she seems to like dramatic entrances, Scott notes with amusement- and goes into the room. This, apparently, is some type of storage room. It’s filled with bottles of chemicals and what looks like refrigerators in the back.

Ahead of him, Kirstie makes a gagging sound and rushes back towards the door.

“Fuck, Scott, there’s bodies there. They’re back by the fridges,” Kirstie gasps out before she gets out into the hall. Scott cringes as he hears her retching onto the floor. He tries to ignore the bilious feeling in his stomach and moves forward. The smell of rotting flesh is even worse here, and he can see the bodies in the back now. They look like they’re dressed in hotel employee clothing, and their cause of death is quickly revealed when Scott opens the fridges. They’re completely empty, and Scott doesn’t really want to think of these poor people starving to death, but he can’t help it. Kirstie comes back into the room quietly.

“Sorry about that, I’m not great with bodies, believe it or not.”

“But the Bitten?”

“It’s different. They’re… not human anymore. It’s different when it’s actual humans involved.”

“I getcha.”

“How do you think they died?” Kirstie gestures at the employees with a grimace.

“My guess is that they holed up in here during the first wave and ran out of food,” Scott waves vaguely at the fridges, “So they starved.”

Kirstie purses her lips. “Hopefully that’s not our fate, then.”

“I still have rations for another few months if I’m careful,” Scott says after counting up what he has left in his head.

“Same, so unless one of us gets hurt, knock on wood, we’ll be alright until then.”

“Okay, so let’s leave these poor guys and check out the _other_ door, behind which is hopefully no more dead people.” There’s a sarcastic edge to Scott’s voice, which usually only comes into play in his own thoughts. He hopes he’s not scaring Kirstie away with his humor, which, admittedly, has gotten quite dark since the whole _apocalypse thing._ He really doesn’t mean for everything he says to sound so dark, but he can’t really help himself. Fuck it, if she doesn’t like him, she can leave, cause he was doing alright without her.

“Honestly, girl, if there were more dead bodies, I’d be hopping on the nope train with a one-way ticket to fuckthatville,” Kirstie deadpans as she checks her gun and starts down the hall to the door. She tries the knob, which seems to be locked.

“Shit, this is weird. Shouldn’t this place have all its doors busted in already?” Kirstie mutters as she shoots the lock.

There’s the sound of a gun clicking and Scott dives to the floor, pulling Kirstie with him as bulletholes riddle the wooden door in front of them.

“Hey, hey! Truce, we’re human, stop shooting!” Scott calls when the shots pause.

The door opens and a man steps out. He’s carrying an automatic, something that’s really quite rare now, and it’s pointed right at them.

Scott and Kirstie both hold their hands in the air automatically.

“Whoa, we don’t mean any harm, please don’t shoot…” Scott trails off, eyes wide.

The man lowers his gun slowly, his whole figure still tense.

“Who are you and how did you end up here?” His voice is low and smooth.

“I’m Kirstie Maldonado,” Kirstie says.

“Scott Hoying. We were just looking for a place to stay the night,” Scott clarifies, “We’re not looking to kick you out or anything…”

“And why down here? Why not upstairs?” The man still sounds suspicious.

“The back wall of this place is as good as knocked down, and the Nighters are going to start swarming the place,” Kirstie replies before Scott can say anything, “So we decided to try down here.”

“The Nighters?” The man looks intrigued, and his face has relaxed a hair.

“Night plus Biters equals Nighters, according to Scott here,” Kirstie explains with a quirk of her mouth.

The man nods in understanding. “Ah, I see.” He opens the door further to reveal a decent sized room behind him. Somehow, there’s a faint glow of light even though it’s obvious that the electricity is long dead. “If you want, you two can come in. I don’t have much room, but company is always welcome. I’m Avi, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Avi. We just have to grab our things from the room back there and we’ll be back.” Kirstie practically drags Scott back into the dark hall.

They walk back down to the room in silence.

“Do you trust him?” Kirstie asks as they collect their things.

Scott shrugs. “It’s hard to say, but someone who’s survived as long as we have has got to have some type of reason for it. Who knows? We’ll just have to try our luck.”

“Alright, then.”

When they come back down the hall, the door is ajar and Avi is nowhere to be seen. Scott knocks at the door.

“Avi?”

“Come in, door’s unlocked,” Avi calls, a smile in his voice.

The two push the door open and go in. Avi is sitting in the far corner, behind what looks like a lantern with a little flame in it.

“Nice light you have there.” Scott comments, to which Avi looks up and smiles.

“Thanks. Made it myself,” he quips. “No, seriously, do you know how much lighter fluid I wasted trying to set a sheet on fire?”

“A whole lighter’s worth,” Kirstie guesses.

“Mmhmm. _An entire lighter’s worth of lighter fluid_.”

The three of them laugh and Kirstie and Scott join Avi in sitting around the little lantern. Seeing light, something that’s so unusual at night now, reminds Scott that whatever’s happening right now and whatever happens to the three of them won’t matter in the course of the universe. It doesn’t care if they live or die, the way the moon will keep rising and setting and the sun will do the same no matter who it shines on. As this thought starts to sink in, another one floats up. Just because the universe won’t care if they live or die, the people around them do. If Kirstie or Avi died, Scott would be devastated even though he’s known Kirstie for all of a couple hours and Avi less than ten minutes. He can tell that they would feel the same if he died, and the thought makes him want to be stronger, both for them and for himself.

Avi’s dealt out rations as Scott was lost in his thoughts, and they eat quickly and quietly.

Avi has a decent-looking mattress in the corner, and he offers them some clean sheets to sleep on for the night. Scott has no idea how he finds the water to clean them, or even how the hell he ended up here, but he appreciates it, and they can talk in the morning. It’s not like they’re going anywhere in an hurry.

“I’m taking first watch, then? I’ll wake you up in two hours, Scott, and Avi, you can take the last shift,” Kirstie points to each person as she speaks.

The two men glance at each other and nod.

It’s going to be a good night’s sleep for once, not constantly in that state between awake and asleep, always on alert for approaching Biters, Scott thinks.

He smiles to himself as he drifts off on his bed of a stranger’s sheets and the unforgiving wood floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going to try to keep a saturdays/weekends update schedule, but no promises, cause i'm going to be super busy this summer.  
> thanks for reading! leave a comment if you want to see more!  
> pssst kudos and comments and bookmarks always make my day!!  
> also just to clarify, this _is_ a scomiche fic, not a scott/kirstie fic (idk their ship name, lemme know if you know!).... planning for it to be quite a slow burn, so if that's not really your thing, sorry! honestly though, it's going to be hard to write slow burn for scomiche cause they're so obviously soulmates like jfc. anyways. i'm rambling, see you guys next week!


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there are things outside doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys i am so sorry for this being late and short... i was out at a friend's party last night and i was waaaaay too tired to write after (introverts who try to be social and exhaust themselves REPRESENT)  
> okay have the chapter sorry it's crappy

Scott is rudely awakened by Avi firing into the hallway.

“Scott, Kirstie, get up, they found us,” Avi calls over his shoulder as he ducks into the room to reload quickly.

Scott grabs his gun and turns the safety off. He can hear the tell-tale grunts and dragging steps of the Bitten, along with the distant squelch of half-rotten flesh being torn off bones.  He can only assume that they’ve found the dead hotel employees and are making quick meals of them. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Kirstie picking up one of her weapons from beside her, so he joins Avi in the hall, where there is an active stream of Bitten flowing/tripping/tumbling down the stairs. Avi is doing fairly well just holding them off, and as Scott looks around, his eye lands on the steel door. If he can get that closed, they’ll be home free.

The tiny little problem that has to be solved before the door can be closed is the rapidly-growing mob of Bitten that consist of both Nighters and Biters filling up the few yards to the door. Avi has an auto, but there’s no saying how much ammo he has, and it wouldn’t be safe to just go straight in under the line of fire. They need to pull back and think up a plan.

“Avi!” Scott yells over the clamor of bullets and the thuds of dead bodies hitting the ground. Avi turns slightly, not letting his bullets stop.

“Yeah?”

“We need to pull back and reorganize, there’s too many of them right now,” Scott grunts, smashing the butt of his gun into a Biter’s head. It collapses in front of him, joining the bodies of its comrades on the floor.

Avi is moving backwards, still firing into the mob and keeping them at bay. Scott follows him, much more conservative with his shots and only using them if a Biter got too close.

Avi lowers his gun when it clicks out of ammo, ducking into the room to give Scott room to retreat. Scott takes out the last of the closer Biters and turns and sprints into the room, slamming the door behind him. He braces his back against it, aware that, yeah, maybe shooting the lock last night wasn’t a great idea. He can hear the mass of shuffling steps getting closer.

“Okay, so, what are we going to do now?” Kirstie asks.

“Avi? Any other way out?” Scott deflects. He wants to have some idea of what to do, he really does, but he can’t think of a single thing.

Avi shakes his head. “Nope. That’s the one way in or out.”

“Aaaaand that’s why I hate basements,” Scott sighs, sliding down so he’s still against the door but he’s sitting rather than standing. He uses his foot to hook his backpack over and reload.

Kirstie nods once, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. “I’ve got eight rounds left for this,” she waves her gun, “A round of buckshot I picked up somewhere that I have no use for, two knives, and a sword.”

Scott and Avi’s eyebrows go up simultaneously.

“You have a _sword_?” Avi gapes.

“I do. I picked it up from my neighbor’s apartment when she left.”

“Your neighbor had a sword just lying around…?” Scott says, ignoring the way he can pick out some of the breathing patterns of the creatures on the other side of the door.

“Yeah, she did. She was a sweet old Korean lady- made the best food ever. Who knew she would have a fucking sword?” Kirstie shrugs. She picks up one of the knives and tosses it in the air, its blade glinting in the small light of the lantern. She catches it by handle and sets it back down by the rest of her weapons.

“Hey, Kirstie, could you toss me that buckshot?” Avi says after rummaging in the back of the room for a few minutes. “I might have something that could be used with that.”

Kirstie lobs the buckshot over to Avi, who catches it and fits it into a shotgun.  “Great, now I have one more thing to kill with, so that’s good.”

“So, hearing as these fuckers are about ready to knock down the door,” Scott says tersely, “How the fuck do we plan on getting out of here without dying?

Kirstie lights up. “I know! So I’ll go in, take out the front ones with the sword and try not to die in the process, and then Avi, you come in behind me with that auto and get more of them and Scott, you take up the back and get the ones that slip past us. We’ll work to the door, shut that, and then figure things out from there.”

Avi and Scott exchange a look and nod.

Scott speaks for both of them, “Sure. Just say the word and I’ll move and let them in. Avi?”

Avi shrugs. “Sounds good. Kirstie, just be careful not to get into my line of fire when I head out- I'm not really up for killing my new friends just yet.”

Kirstie nods and straps a knife to her belt, holstering the pistol and picking the sword up, hefting it in her hand. Avi stands and clicks the safety off on his auto, bracing it up. He nods at Scott, who stands up and then hops out of the way as the door smashes in. Kirstie is first up, slicing through brittle bones and half-rotten flesh and hewing a path through.

“Kirstie, I’m coming in, stay low and to your right,” Avi calls as he starts shooting. Kirstie follows his order, still hacking at the Bitten as she ducks a little.

Scott watches the horde start to thin, and he steps out of the room.

“Okay, I’m in, keep moving forward,” he yells over the thuds of bodies hitting the floor. He hears Avi’s shooting stop, his gun click as he reloads, and then the shooting starts up again, and he can see Kirstie fighting her way to the door.  He catches three or four Biters by surprise, taking them out easily. He hears the steel door slam shut, and lets his guard down a bit, knowing the flow of new ones is stopped.

He realizes a little too late, however, that letting his guard down is the wrong move. He feels the grab of a hand on his ankle. It pulls his leg out from under him and he’s faced with its mouth, dripping in bloody pus and saliva. Scott closes his eyes and awaits his painful end.

Just as it seems like he’s truly done for, Scott hears a spattering of bullets by his head and he instinctively ducks away. When he looks, he sees the head of the Biter practically caved in from Avi’s bullets.

Avi offers Scott a hand up, and Scott takes it, only to double over ten seconds later and heave his guts out. Kirstie rubs his back as he considers how close he was to death- if Avi hadn’t noticed, Scott would be either dead or a Biter right now. The thought makes him sick. When he’s finished throwing up, he straightens with a groan.

“Oh god, thank you, Avi. I would’ve been dead meat if you hadn’t seen.”

Avi waves it off. “No problem, man. We humans gotta have each other’s backs, don’t we?”

Kirstie scoffs out a laugh and kicks the door. It stays closed, but it doesn’t really lock anymore, thanks to Kirstie’s kick earlier.

“Well. Looks like we’re going to have to get this fixed or we’ve gotta move.”

Avi goes back into the room and returns carrying a small box. “I’ve got it. You two can go clean up in the room- I’ll meet you back there in a few seconds.”

Scott and Kirstie leave him to whatever he’s doing, and go back to the room, stepping gingerly through what remains of the door.

“Well. That was quite the ride,” Kirstie comments as she digs through her backpack. She’s covered in blood and guts, and Scott’s only marginally better.

“No kidding.” Scott know he has one or two changes of clothes he picked up from Walmart near the beginning of the first wave somewhere, and even though he was going to save them, he’s damn well going to use them now. That has got to be the biggest mob he’s ever seen- probably due to the fact that there’s three of them now, tripling the scent. Scott shucks off his jeans, wrinkling his nose at the way it’s practically brown from the dirt and old blood. It’s spattered with fresh red- the blood of this mob. His t-shirt is in even worse condition. It’s practically soaked in drying blood, the grey of the fabric darkened with age, sweat, and, predictably, blood.

When he’s comfortable again, Avi still isn’t back, and Kirstie is pacing.

“Did they get him while he was trying to fix the door, d’you think?” Kirstie murmurs, half to herself.

Scott shrugs helplessly. Neither of them know Avi well enough to say how much time he’d need for any given thing, so they can only wait and hope he’s not dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :///  
> thanks for reading i love you all i'm so tired i'll edit this later i'm sorry  
> comments and kudos make my day c:
> 
> alsooo thanks to cantsleeplove for informing me that scott/kirstie is scirstie :* love you 
> 
>  
> 
> edit 6.26.16: i edited the end a lil bit so it's not quite as crappy
> 
>  
> 
> so my life update: i'm going to be going halfway across the world for like three weeks in a few days, so these updates might be super super spaced out, sorry :c okay anyways so yeah that's a thing.
> 
> okay another thing dear lord i keep on thinking of things-- would you guys like to see some type of kirstie/mentioned-bf reunion OOOOORRRRR some kavi OOOOORRRRRR some kirstie/omc ORRRRRRR kirstie/ofc ORRRRRR no kirstie relationship?? vote in the comments :)


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two more people come into the picture. scott needs to both think and not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyoooo have the chapter early bc i'm in a diff timezone  
> i also edited the last chapter a bit and this one is going to be much better.
> 
> lil tw for mention of past character death (nothing overtly graphic but message me on tumblr (link on the first chapter) if you need it summarized/smth else if you're worried)

Seconds turn into minutes and minutes turn into hours. Avi’s still not back, and now Scott and Kirstie have to decide what to do. They checked out the whole basement area by the first hour, and all the dead bodies, human and otherwise, were gone. Avi’s toolkit had also disappeared, along with the man himself.  The door was fixed and locked.

“Well,” Scott starts, “We have two options. We can either stay here and wait, which I wouldn’t recommend, or we can leave and head back onto the road, which is probably a smarter plan except it’s getting dark again and the Nighters are gonna wake up soon.”

Kirstie scrunches up her nose. “I dunno. I don’t really want to leave here, cause it’s fairly safe, and who’s to say Avi isn’t going to come back and then wonder why we’re gone?”

“Yeah, I mean, there’s that, but do you want to just wait for a guy who might be dead?” Scott counters. He doesn’t really want to stay here, even though it _is_ safe and they would probably do better here than out there. It feels like they’re intruding on Avi’s place.

Kirstie shrugs, cleaning her gun again for the third time since The Battle, as Scott refers to it in his head. That seems to be her nervous habit- cleaning her weapons and pacing. Scott has his own thing- overthinking and planning for incidents that’ll never happen. It’s super unhelpful to trying to survive in a world dictated by chaos when your mind is occupied by scenarios that would require order and specific actions to happen. Scott watches as Kirstie puts her gun back together with practiced, albeit trembling fingers.

“I’m staying, Scott. I don’t want to  leave here,” Kirstie finally says softly, laying the firearm on the ground next to her, “We were here for one night, I know, but Avi’s been here so long that it’s like- I don’t know how to explain it, but… it’s almost homey,” she laughs bitterly, “and I miss feeling like I belong somewhere.”

And Scott gets it, he really does, but for him, trust and the sense of belonging take time to build. This place is just another location right now. It doesn’t carry any sort of significance but for the fact that he has two other humans with him here. He’s torn as fuck. He’s torn between his survival instinct, which is telling him to leave, and his heart, which is telling him to stay and band together with Kirstie and possibly Avi. Scott really, really hates the idea of leaving, but he has to. He has to leave, because it’ll give him a higher chance of survival. Thing is, is a longer life really worth living if he lives it alone with the knowledge of the fact that he could have lived it with other people? This is one of the hardest decisions he’s ever had to make, right up there with coming out to his parents and leaving them behind when they were bitten.

They’d been getting supplies in a convenience store while Scott guarded the front, unaware there was a back entrance. _Fuck_ , his mom’s scream, the shots, his dad’s hoarse yell. Scott had gone in to see them both bleeding out on top of a dead Biter and two other Biters hovering over them. He’d shot the two, knelt next to his parents.

_“Mom, Dad, c’mon, stay with me, please, oh god, please,” he’d begged, “They didn’t get you, did they?”_

_His mom had coughed, a little bit of blood staining her lips as she did so. “Scotty, baby, run. Run for your life, love, before we turn and get you too.”_

_“No, Mom, I can’t leave you and Dad!”_

_“I love you, Scotty.”  Her eyes had fluttered shut and she had taken her husband’s hand, squeezing it as they breathed their last._

Scott doesn’t remember much past that. He knows that he crouched there until a few minutes later, his dad’s eyes had opened and they were glazed and clouded. He remembers sobbing. He remembers standing and running without knowing where he was going. He thinks he probably passed out somewhere along the road, because he’d woken up under an old overpass, and he remembers throwing up and then running some more. Oh god, if only running could take all of his problems away.

Scott doesn’t even notice he’s started crying until he feels Kirstie’s arms around him and holding him tight.

“Shhhh, Scott, you’re okay, you’re okay… Let it all out, babe. You’re okay.” Scott can hear her whispering as she rocks them back and forth a little.

Scott lets himself cry. He cries until he’s just hiccupping and his eyes are raw and his nose is probably like a fucking tomato.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Kir,” he whispers after a moment. His voice is all cracked up anyways.

“No, it’s fine. It’s okay. Everyone needs to cry sometimes, right?” Kirstie’s voice is soft, and Scott closes his eyes and tips his head back against the wall. He tries to focus on counting his breaths, in for four and out for eight, and then in for four and out for twelve, and repeat. It helps a little.

“Thank you.”

Kirstie squeezes him tighter for a moment before she lets go and stands up. “Okay, so what’s happening now? Are we staying, going?”

Scott takes a deep breath. Lets it out. “We’re gonna stay.”

Kirstie nods. Scott can tell she’s a little confused by his change of stance, but it’s okay, because he’s going to try and start forming relationships with people again after being guarded for so long.

They hear footsteps walking down the stairs and Kirstie loads her gun and brings it to the door with her. Scott prays it’s not another mob. 

The steel door opens slowly, and Kirstie’s finger tenses.

Avi appears in the doorway, carrying his toolkit. When he sees Kirstie, he puts his hands up. “Whoa there, lioness, it’s me.”

Kirstie sighs, closing her eyes for a long moment before opening them again. Scott watches as two more people appear behind Avi, a tall woman who looks oddly like Avi and a slight figure tucked under her arm who looks young- barely in his twenties, probably.

“So, basically, I was fixing this door, yeah?” Avi is saying to Kirstie, “And these two stumble in. I almost shot them, but then I take a closer look and lo and behold, it’s my sister Esther.”

Ah. Well that would explain the familiar features. Scott really wants to know who the other guy is, though. He’s really cute, dyed-blond fringe and big, brown eyes. Scott would almost venture the word _pretty_ to describe him.

Esther takes over the story. “So yeah, I’m Esther, Avi’s older sister. This here is Mitch. He doesn’t really talk much, but he’s fantastic.” Mitch blushes a lovely pink and Scott wants to cuddle him so bad.  “Sorry we were awhile. I was out on a supplies run, and Mitch was back at our tent, which, by the way, nice place. It’s a million times stronger than our old place. Anyways, Avi and I had a lot to catch up on, and then we had to get Mitch before we could come back.”

Avi smiles, hugging her from the side. Scott watches curiously as Mitch flinches at a brush of Avi’s fingers on his arm. Scott meets Mitch’s eyes, and he’s intrigued. Mitch looks scared, yeah, but there’s more than that to it. There’s also hints of panic, pleading, and something troubled.

“I’m Kirstie!” Kirstie’s exclamation breaks Scott out of his thoughts and Mitch instantly drops his gaze and stares at the scuffed toes of his shoes. Scott realizes that he’s probably supposed to introduce himself.

“’m Scott,” he offers a minute too late. Mitch glances up at the name, eyes flicking up and down Scott’s body before he leans up to whisper something in Esther’s ear. Esther grins and pokes Mitch gently as he ducks his face into her shoulder.

“Mitchie says he likes your name,” Esther smirks, “Not his exact words, but close enough.”

Scott can feel his eyes widen without his consent. Who gave them that right anyways? Jesus. Anyways, he clears his throat and turns to go back to the room. He needs space to collect his thoughts right now. They’re kinda running rampant, and Scott absolutely hates it.

He shuts the door on their chattering, and slides down the wall to sit and think.

God knows he needs it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment, guys, i thrive on comments and not getting them makes me wonder if you guys aren't reading/got bored so if you think of something (anything) just type it out thank you i love you. i love plot ideas and stuff, so if you want to see something, please comment :)
> 
>  
> 
> edit two minutes after posting: oh god the word count 
> 
> edit 6.26.16: the word count changed lmaoooooo it was 6661 i'm dying
> 
> edit 7.1.16: i just reread my note and i'm so sorry, y'all, i sound like a whiny bitch and i apologize. didn't mean to offend anyone. it's just that comments literally make my day and i love talking to people so yeah it kind of translated wrong :(   
> also i'm not really sure if i'm going to update this weekend- lots of stuff is happening, and if no one's reading this, might as well not waste my time on it i guess. idk. :////


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the word skittles is used too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry this hasn't updated in like almost a month. apologies.

That night, they eat around Avi’s lantern. The little room is filled with laughter and noise, but all Scott can focus on throughout dinner is Mitch, who’s sitting across from him. The lantern light glints off of the boy’s eyes and Scott can’t shake the feeling that there’s so much more to him than it seems even now. When Mitch looks up from time to time and catches Scott’s gaze, he flushes pink and looks back down at his food, which he’s picking at. Scott notes how he only eats a little of the food and then pushes the rest around to make it look like he’s eating more than he is. When they pack up dinner, Mitch rummages around in his backpack for a few minutes and returns with a roll of cling wrap, which he pulls carefully over his bowl. He puts both into said backpack and zips it up. Scott wants to know how many bowls of food he has in there.  

Kirstie calls him over to help figure out sleeping arrangements for the night, and without really meaning to, Scott manipulates their bags against the back wall so that from left to right it goes Avi, Kirstie, Esther, Mitch, and then himself. Kirstie gives him a funny little look when he stops her from moving his bag next to Avi’s. He really doesn’t have an explanation for that, so he goes over to where Mitch is talking quietly with Esther in the corner. The moment he spots Scott, however, his mouth snaps shut and he looks away. Scott mentally frowns but files it under the small but growing _Mitch_ folder in his head.

“Um, me and Kirstie have the bags set up in the order we’re gonna sleep in, so if you want to go check that out…?” Scott manages to get out without stammering.

Esther glances at Mitch, who nods and stands up. He steps carefully around Scott, giving him a wide berth, and Esther smiles apologetically.

“You’ll have to forgive him, Scott. He had it rough before I found him, but that’s his story to tell. Just… give him space until he learns to trust you,” Esther murmurs under her breath as she steps past Scott.

Scott just nods. It’s going to be hard to give this mesmerizing boy space, he can already tell. Something about him just pulls Scott in, and shit, he’s already in too deep, isn’t he?

Someone tapping him on the shoulder breaks him out of his reverie. He spins around to see Avi, who has the beginnings of a smirk playing around the corners of his mouth.

“How’d you know?” Avi’s question is a simple one, but also one that’s confusing as fuck to Scott.

“How’d I know what?”

Avi’s expression drops a little. “That Esther thinks… you know what, ignore me. It’s her story to tell.”

Scott startles a little at the phrase. _That’s his story to tell. It’s her story to tell_. It speaks to how close Avi and Esther really are, and once again, Scott wonders if he’ll ever have anyone like that. He wasn’t particularly close to his parents, but they were still his parents. He can’t remember if he had siblings, which concerns him a bit. Actually, now that he thinks about it, he can’t really remember much of his life before the first wave of Biters. All he can think of now, day in and day out, is how he’s going to survive the next hour, the next day, the next week. What he has to do, to ration, to find. Where he’s going next, what he’s going to do when he’s there. He doesn’t really have time to build trust and relationships, and in this type of world, it’s not healthy to try. If he gets close to someone and they die, it would be terrible for him.

His mind flashes briefly to Mitch, but he pushes _those_ thoughts away as soon as he thinks them. It’s not really okay to want to love someone he’s just met.

On that note, he wanders over to the bags. Mitch is sitting at his spot, fiddling with something in his backpack.

Scott settles on the floor next to him. Might as well try to start to befriend him now, seeing as Esther was friendly enough and at this point, Mitch was the only one Scott didn’t really know at all.

“Hi.” To Scott’s surprise, Mitch is the first one to speak.

“Hi,” Scott replies dumbly. There’s not much else he can think of to say. “How are you?”

Mitch cracks a tiny little smile, a hint of dimple playing in his cheek. Scott can’t help but beam back at him.

“I’m fine, thanks. You?”

“I’m alright, considering that The Battle happened today.”

Mitch looks intrigued. “I feel like that has a capital T and a capital B.”

“It does! It’s kind of a long story, but the short version is that a bunch of Nighters-”

“Nighters?” Mitch interrupts before snapping his mouth shut. “Sorry, go on.”

Scott raises an eyebrow, but plows on. “Nighters are my name for the nocturnal ones. It’s just easier and shorter to say than ‘Night Biters’. Anyways, a bunch of those and the diurnal ones found this basement and basically flooded us. If Avi hadn’t been on watch, we would’ve been dead. There was an epic battle of proportions I’m probably going to exaggerate someday, and then Avi disappeared after he fixed the door.”

Mitch is a little quieter when he asks, “The door was broken?”

“Yeah. Kirstie kicked it in last night before we knew Avi was living here.”

“Oh. I don’t really have anything cool to talk about like that, so, I dunno, you could talk to Esther?”

Scott feels like he’s just been slapped in the face. “Do you not want to talk to me?”

Mitch’s face falls. He bites his lip, and it really shouldn’t be as hot as it is. “I’m bad at making myself understood, sorry. What I meant was that I’m not an interesting person at all, and you probably don’t want to waste your time on me.”

It’s Scott’s eyes’ turn to widen. “Mitch, look at me, please.”

Scott waits until Mitch connects their gazes. “Mitch, I don’t know who told you that you’re not interesting, or that you’re not worth people’s times, but none of it is true. You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve met in my life, and you’re definitely worth my time.”

Mitch purses his lips. “Scott, I appreciate it a lot but you’ve really only known me for what, four hours? I don’t think you’re really qualified to just say something like that.”

With that, Mitch stands and goes over to Esther, whispering something in her ear. Esther glances over at Scott with a smile that Scott sees as ‘You tried. Better luck next time.’

And the thing is, Scott doesn’t know what- or who- hurt Mitch so much that he’d believe that he’s not worth anyone’s time, that he’s less interesting than everyone else, that he doesn’t deserve to be listened to. Scott really doesn’t want to think about it, but all the signs point to an abusive ex. The shying away from touches, especially sudden, the low self-esteem, everything combined with a gut feeling.

The thought of anyone being cruel enough to purposefully hurt anyone, especially someone as beautiful and lovely as Mitch, makes Scott sick. Yes, Mitch has a point- they’ve barely been aware of each other’s existences for four hours, but Scott can’t help but want to protect and support and love him like he deserves.

“Scotty, are you thinking too much again?” Kirstie’s voice shakes him out of his thoughts.

Scott looks up to see Kirstie staring down at him, eyes big and curious. He has to think for a moment what she asked before he says, “Probably.”

“Okay.”

Scott’s glad she doesn’t push the matter. How is he supposed to explain to Kirstie, whom he’s known for just about a day, that he thinks he likes Mitch, whom he’s known for less than four hours? He really can’t.

“So for watch tonight- what order are we going in?” Kirstie says after a moment.

Scott shrugs. “I don’t really care. We can just go in straight order from Avi down to me. What time is it now?”

“Uh, ten, I think. We’re planning to drift off by probably eleven or twelve, and the sun comes up by six, which is when the break is. That’s six hours, give or take, and we have five people, so that’s…” Kirstie pauses.

Scott runs the numbers. “That’s an hour and twelve per person. It’ll work.”

Kirstie nods approvingly. “Okay, then, that’s solved. I’ll let the others know, and we’ll either play some type of get-to-know-you game or get ready for bed.” She bounds off with enthusiasm.

Scott watches as she goes up to the little group that consists of Avi, Esther, and Mitch. She appears to explain what they’re going to do for tonight, and Scott feels a pang of jealousy when Mitch quirks a smile at her. It doesn’t last long, though, because Kirstie turns her bright smile on Scott.

“C’mon,” she says, “We’re gonna make a circle and play never have I ever with this packet of Skittles Esther picked up today.”

Scott moves over to their side of the room and squeezes in between Kirstie and Avi. Mitch, like at dinner, is directly across from him, and Esther’s to his right to make it Mitch, Esther, Avi, Scott, and then Kirstie.  

Esther deals out the bag of Skittles, which turns out to be about ten per person.

“Okay, so how this works is that if you’ve done something, you eat half a Skittle to make it last longer. The last person with any candy is the winner,” Esther says, “So who wants to go first?”

Scott looks around the circle. Mitch clearly isn’t going to start, his eyes trained on his fingers deftly sorting his Skittles into piles by color and then arranging the colors into the rainbow order. Avi is looking around just like Scott, and they exchange small smirks when their gazes meet. Kirstie is watching Esther for more instructions, and Esther is waiting for someone to say something. Scott raises his hand.

“I’ll do it. Okay, um. Never have I ever thought an apocalypse would happen in my lifetime.” And whoops, he didn’t really mean to start the round off so dark, but there it is.

Avi is the only one who bites off half a Skittle. “Really, am I the only one?”

Esther nods with a wry grin. “You always were the pessimistic one, baby brother. Let’s go to the right, so Kirstie, you’re up.”

“Alright. Since Scott so kindly started us off with his doom and gloom, never have I ever hooked up with anyone in a bathroom,” Kirstie blushes a little in the lamplight.

“Does shower sex with a significant other-slash-morning after count?” Scott finds himself saying before he can think. Shit.

“Nope. Like actual hooking up in a club or bar bathroom,” Kirstie clarifies.

Scott takes a bite of Skittle and watches as Avi, Mitch, and Esther do the same. Kirstie’s face falls.

“I’m feeling really, really left out here, guys. Am I really the only one who hasn’t hooked up in a bathroom?”

Scott pats her on the shoulder. “No worries, Kir. It’s really not as great as it’s made out to be. It’s super awkward and cramped and the bathrooms are always dirty as fuck.”

Kirstie nods. “Okay, then.”

Esther nudges Mitch. “You’re next, Mitchy.”

“Never have I ever dated a girl,” Mitch says softly, simply.

Next to him, Esther raises an eyebrow. “That was fast for you, bub,” she murmurs.

Mitch shrugs, glancing over at Scott. “Felt like it, so if they’re gonna do anything, it won’t do as much.”

Scott doesn’t understand what he means, but Esther just nods and eats a bite of Skittle. Scott thinks back, and he thinks Amy from eighth grade counts, so he takes a bite too. Avi’s already chewing.

“Never have I ever owned a cat,” Esther says.

Mitch glares at her, albeit lovingly, and eats his bite. Avi sighs and takes a bite too.

“Never have I ever dated a guy,” Avi says pointedly, apparently looking to hit all of them at once, which he does quite successfully.

And the circle goes around and around again. Esther and Scott run out of Skittles together first, and Kirstie, not unexpectedly, is the clear winner with three whole Skittles left.

As midnight approaches, yawns start making their appearances, and Scott can feel his mind shifting into Night Mode, aka when he does way too much thinking for his own good- not that he doesn’t do that already, but night is when he starts thinking about his past and his future, not just right here right now. Scott knows, he _knows_ from years and years of experience that he’s not going to be able to sleep for a long time. It’s going to be a long, hard fight to keep his thoughts at bay, especially with new people in the mix and one who’s so intriguing, and Scott really isn’t looking forward to it.

It’s safe to say that it’s going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> should i just delete this piece of god-knows-what


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~someone new~  
> also scott starts catching feelings but what's new

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy hell it's been like a whole month sorry  
> also this might be my longest update so far???????? idk if anyone wants to check they can

Scott manages to fall asleep somewhere between Kirstie and Esther’s shifts. He wakes up again when Esther shakes Mitch awake.

Mitch does a little whine and a stretch that pulls his shirt up to reveal a sliver of smooth tummy. Scott tries not to stare, operative word being _tries_.

(he fails. miserably.)

Scott watches as Mitch gives Esther a peck on the cheek and mouths something that’s probably “go to bed”. Mitch rummages around in his backpack and pulls out what appears to be the bowl of food from dinner as well as his gun. He disappears into the hallway and Scott waits a few minutes before following him.

Scott finds Mitch sitting against the wall facing the steel door.

“Hi,” Scott whispers.

Mitch glances up and nods his greeting. “What are you doing up?”

Scott shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep. I think too much.”

Mitch does a little smile-scoff thing. “You and me both.”

When Scott gestures to the spot next to Mitch in a silent question, Mitch shrugs and nods. Scott settles himself against the wall, lamenting the few inches of space between them. Mitch retrieves his bowl from his other side and unwraps it. Scott watches as Mitch starts eating the rest of his dinner.

“Why do you do that?”

Mitch pauses, spoon halfway to his mouth. “What, the food thing?”

“Yeah.”

Mitch sighs. “Old habit. I used to have lots of little meals and snacks throughout the day rather than two or three solid ones. Ever since this apocalypse, natural disaster, whatever you want to call it, happened, I’ve kind of lumped everything together into something like four meals- one in the morning, one for lunch, one for dinner, and one for whatever night shift I take.”

“Oh,” Scott says.

“Yeah. That’s something new about me. Your turn.”

“Um, I don’t have that many stories. I don’t really remember much before this.”

“What about habits, pets, things like that?”

Scott shakes his head. “Don’t remember pets or even siblings, for that matter. I don’t know if I have brothers or sisters, and that hurts like fuck. Um, habits? All I really do is think. A lot. Too much, I’ve been told.”

“So you mentioned,” Mitch smiles.

Scott melts. Honestly, Mitch’s smile is the brightest thing since the sun, and Scott wants to see it directed at him more.

“So is there anything you can remember that’s special about you?”

“Well… I mean, there is _one_ thing,” Scott trails off as he thinks back.

“And what’s that?” Mitch prompts.

“This ex of mine- his name was Alex. He taught me how to make cookies. I know it’s kind of weird, but making cookies literally saved my life a few times.”

Mitch’s eyes are soft. “Go on.”

Scott sighs as he remembers late nights and crying and cookies and the timer dinging. “I’ve never told anyone this before, but one night, me and this other ex had a big fight and she’d left me because I found out that she was cheating, and she started yelling about something and soon enough, we were having a screaming match and I felt absolutely terrible because like I said, I overthink everything, and I kept on thinking _‘you know what? She’s better off without me, and probably so is everyone else’_. When she left, I was basically ready to die. It was a bad time for me, and I had the pills ready, the vodka ready. I don’t remember why I decided to make cookies, but it was probably one of those quote unquote _last meal_ things. Thing is, those cookies had to be baked, and then I had to wait for them to finish baking, and in that time, I worked up the nerve to call my mom, and when she answered I just started crying and crying until she rang my doorbell and talked me down. Cookies are most of the time just food to people, but to me, cookies literally saved my life,” Scott blurts. He adds under his breath, “ _God,_ that sounds stupid when I say it.”

Mitch places a thin hand on Scott’s shoulder. “It’s not, though, Scott, because it’s _true_. It’s something that means something to you, which in turn means it’s not stupid.”

Scott shrugs, dislodging Mitch’s hand from his shoulder. He kind of lowkey misses the warmth it provides, but he pushes that thought to the very back of his mind.

“I don’t know, Mitch. I think too much and I’m generally a mess, and, no offence, but it’s not like I have anyone to live for anyways.”

Mitch watches him, face sympathetic. “None taken. I understand.”

They sit in comfortable but slightly heavy silence as Mitch finishes his food and places his bowl on the ground. Scott can’t help but wish there was moonlight so he could see Mitch’s face clearer, but he’ll have to do with the little bit of light that Avi’s lantern leaks into the hall. Scott wonders if he and Mitch could’ve had a chance in another world. Maybe one where the apocalypse hadn’t happened, one where they could have been friends and not strangers. Hell, they could even have been in a world famous band with Avi and Kirstie, as laughable as the idea is.  Esther doesn’t really strike Scott as the band type, but she could be their tour manager or something equally as important.

Scott jumps when a thump sounds on the door in front of them. He and Mitch are up with their weapons at the ready when a voice shouts through the door, “Is there anyone there? Hello?”

“Who are you?” Mitch snaps, voice ringing in the hall. Avi appears in the doorway to their left.

“What’s happening?” Avi asks, voice sleep-rough. He yawns and scrubs a hand over his eyes.

“Person at the door,” Scott whispers.

“…and I mean no harm,” Scott catches the last end of the person’s sentence.

Mitch glances at Scott and Avi, and Scott shrugs. “I think they’ll be fine. Avi?”

Avi nods. “Let him in, but keep your guns at hand until we figure out who he is.”

Mitch steps forward and unbars the door with one hand, gun held steady in the other. The door swings open and Scott’s finger tenses on the trigger just in case. The man steps in, hands going up and eyes widening when he sees Mitch and Scott with their guns trained on his heart and his head, respectively, and Avi leaning against the door with an auto resting at his side.

“Come on in,” Avi says cautiously. Behind him, Esther and Kirstie are up and trying to see what’s happening.

The man walks in and pauses in probable, understandable awe at the light from the lantern.

“Wow. Y’all have quite the setup here,” he says, and Scott grins to himself.

The rest of the night is spent getting to know this man. His name is Kevin Olusola and Scott likes him immediately. He’s very chill about everything, and he’s been wandering for a few months just like the rest of them. He has very few weapons compared to the rest of them- just a 9mm and small knife that’s got a fancy-looking sheath. He’s carrying almost an entire backpack of cans of food and spare clothing, and it’s amazing to Scott the differences in all of their priorities. Scott has mostly weapons and ammo with about a couple months’ rations and probably two changes of clothes or less. Kirstie seems to be travelling light, rations and ammo taking up the most space in her little backpack. Scott hasn’t seen much of Esther, Avi, or Mitch’s backpacks so he doesn’t really know what they carry, but he suspects that Esther and Mitch probably split their supplies between the two of them.

By the time the gloom of the basement brightens a little to signify the arrival of dawn, everyone is up and active. Scott’s trying to take inventory of his backpack, Mitch and Esther are off on a food run to a place that looked promising, Kirstie is cleaning her various weapons, and Avi and Kevin disappeared into the hallway a little while back.

“What do you think of them, Kir?”

“I think Avi’s hiding stuff, and I don’t blame him. Do you see his sheets? And his sleeping bag? They’re all so clean. There’s gotta be some cache of water around here that he’s using. I can’t really say much for Mitch or Kevin, but Esther’s nice to me. She was telling me earlier about her old life, and she’s so kind.” Kirstie flushes a little as if she’s embarrassed to say it.

“Aw, does someone have a crush?” Scott pokes her arm and she bats half-heartedly at him.

“Nope,” Kirstie denies, popping the p. “No romance here, buddy.”

Scott thinks otherwise, but he doesn’t try to push her for more. It’ll all come out sooner or later. He looks back at his inventory, and realizes that he’s forgotten what count he was at for rations. Fuck. He’s going to have to recount.

Scott’s finished counting his sixty-three rations when Avi and Kevin walk back into the room deep in discussion about something or other. Scott catches “electricity”, “generator”, and “water” before he gives up on their conversation and starts calculating how much ammo he has.

“Hey, are Mitch and Esther back yet?” Avi asks the room in general.

“Not that I know of yet. It’s only been an hour, Avi,” Kirstie says without looking up from polishing her sword.  “They’ll be back soon.”

True to Kirstie’s word, Esther and Mitch come back within another hour, backpacks looking significantly heavier. They take turns revealing what they got, like some type of game show. Esther pulls a pack of gum out, using her hand to showcase it.

“Here’s Avi’s beloved gum. It’s only free, folks!” She tosses it to Avi, whose eyes light up.

“Oh my god, Esther, thanks. Best sister ever.”

Esther winks dramatically before she turns to Mitch.

“We have four cans of maple sugar baked beans,” Mitch announces, pulling the cans out with a flourish. Scott can’t help the way his eyes train on Mitch’s eyes, happier than they’ve been so far.

“There’s about seven sticks of beef jerky I found in the back room,” Esther continues, and the food haul, as Scott dubs it in his head, continues for the next couple of minutes. Avi looks satisfied with what they’ve brought back, and he shows all of them where his pantry of sorts is. It’s in one of the old refrigerators in the room where the dead employees were, and it’s surprisingly well-stocked.

Avi takes them on an impromptu tour then, and Scott is amazed at how well-off Avi actually is. He’s linked the hotel backup generator to a solar panel (which, what.) and he’s got _that_ hooked up to some type of water purifier that’s somehow recycling rainwater and wastewater into drinkable water, and Scott is far too impressed with this setup. As much as Scott wishes he’d paid attention to Avi and Kevin’s more detailed explanation, he’s too busy watching Mitch as they go around. Mitch isn’t particularly excited or bored by the tour, but there’s something addicting to Scott about watching the little shifts in his expressions. Mitch in general is addicting, and Scott feels high on just being around him and he’s so, so fucked.

As Avi continues the tour, Scott realizes there’s so much more to this basement than he and Kirstie had thought at first, and Avi knows it like the back of his hand. Scott wants to ask him about himself, about how he got here and how long he’s been here, but it’s not the right place or the right time now. Mitch is asking about something- bathrooms, it sounds like. Scott tunes back in for this part because yeah, that’s kind of important. He’s been going outside the building to do his business, but if there’s an actual bathroom, well, damn.  Avi shows them where the bathroom is- door half hidden behind the fridges- and it’s small but clean. There’s a toilet and a small sink, and it’s nicer than Scott’s seen in months, maybe years. 

And it’s interesting to Scott. It’s interesting how different people do different things in different situations, and Scott knows that his coping mechanism is thinking and moving, and that Kirstie’s seem to be cleaning her weapons and pacing. Scott doesn’t know how Mitch copes, or how Esther or Avi or Kevin copes, and he wants to know. It’s such a difference, that he actually wants to stay and relearn what it’s like to have people there for him, that he’s not just ready to up and leave whenever. It’s only been a couple days, but Scott doesn’t want to leave. When the mini tour ends and they all disperse off to whatever they were doing before, Scott lingers back and waits for Mitch to catch up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> appreciate all the comments on the last chapter! love you all and hopefully, h o p e f u l l y the next chapter won't be another month. i'm also aware that this is kind of an abrupt ending sorry i wanted to get something up.
> 
>  
> 
> edit 8.30.16: hey I have a little question for yall. do you like the balance of description to plot to inner monologue or do you think there should be more or less of one or another? please let me know in the comments- I've been trying to figure out what you all want to read!! :)


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a Little Bit of shit happens because people fuck up sometimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING: DISSOCIATION
> 
> well damn it hasn't been a month holy shit what is this i'm amazing ermahgerd okay i'm really not  
> anywaysssssssss
> 
> sooo i think this fic is just a little darker than I intended it to be,,,, sorry,,,,, i’ve updated the tags but i think for posterity I should mention that this chapter contains a little mention of not so much dissociation as very mild out-of-body feelings? Be careful beebs. My tumblr is linked in the end notes of the first chapter if you want a summary of the chapter/bits of possible concern
> 
> also this chapter is kind of what i refer to as scott overreacts to life and makes a messy shitpile of angst so

“Isn’t this place cool?” Scott’s kind of pissed that that’s the best he can come up with, but Mitch doesn’t seem to notice or mind.

“It is. I’ve only seen one other place like this and that. Wasn’t… the best time of my life, I guess you could say. It’s a long story.”

“Oh. Wanna talk about it?” Scott offers hopefully.

“Not really, sorry, Scott. Still a bit raw, I s’pose,” Mitch comments distantly.

Scott sighs. “Okay. Well, if you ever need to talk-”

“You’ll be there, I got it,” comes the cold reply as Mitch moves forward back down the hall and out the door.

And it hurts, because Scott knows he fucked up, and he fucked up big time. He should know not to push when people open up about private things, because when has that ever turned out well for him? First Alex and that one time when Alex revealed that he’d cheated before and Scott wanted to know if he’d cheat on him, and then Eliza and what he calls the Cookie Breakup, and now Mitch. How many more times does he have to fuck up before he realizes what he’s doing wrong? How many more times does he have to push too far and break people before he sees that he’s never going to win their trust by asking? How many more times does he have to ruin relationships and friendships before he can be more patient and just wait for people to open up?

Esther comes down the stairs and through the door, coming over to Scott when she sees him standing morosely in the hall.

“Did something happen with you and Mitch? I just saw him outside looking like he was about to cry.”

“I don’t know, Esther, I don’t know. I didn’t mean to push, but I did, and now I’ve fucked everything up and Mitch hates me and I’m gonna have to leave all of you guys and- and I just fuck everything up, don’t I?”

“Whoa, babe, slow down. C’mon, let’s have a talk.” Scott lets himself be guided by Esther to the room. He watches in semi-detachedness as Esther shoos Kirstie out of the room with a few quiet words that he can’t hear over the rushing of blood in his ears, because he’s fucked up so bad this time that _Esther_ has to talk to him and shit, he’s going to get kicked out, isn’t he.

Esther sits him down on the floor and she sits across from him.

“Start from the beginning. Slowly,” Esther commands gently.

“So Avi showed us around, right? And so I stopped and asked Mitch what he thought of this place and he said he’d only ever seen one other place like it and that it wasn’t the best time of his life and so I asked if he wanted to talk about it and he basically brushed me off and I just. I can’t, Esther, I _can’t_. I’ve pushed so many people away by pushing too much and breaking them and you’re gonna kick me out now, aren’t you. I’ll go. I’m sorry, Esther.” The words just fall as Scott presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying not to cry, because he’s even fucked this up, just like everything else. He’s fucked up his chances of having friends, of having a place where he belongs, of having the knowledge that if he dies or turns, someone’s going to miss him.

And _god,_ does it hurt to think that he’s going to be leaving because he hurt someone- he hurt _Mitch_ \- by accident, all because he was too curious and he wanted to know more than he had permission to.

It hurts that everyone’s going to turn him away because honestly, Scott, of all people, should know that it’s not exactly great when someone brings up a painful topic, however accidental.

It hurts to know that even Kirstie won’t take his side here, because he has a feeling she has her own things that she doesn’t want anyone asking about.

It hurts, goddamn, it actually hurts Scott’s chest and he sobs out a cough that hurts his throat, and he _can’t_. He can’t do this. He can’t be around people because he’s a monster. He hurts people even without meaning to, and- and… it all dulls in comparison to the thought that he’s going to be alone again, but it’s not so much alone as _lonely_ that Scott’s worried about. He’s used to being alone. He’s been alone since the start, but being around people who could care about him has made him realize that, fuck, he’s _so lonely_. He’s pushing away the only people who could have loved him, the only people he’s spent more than an hour with since his parents.

Scott doesn’t register that Esther’s rubbing circles into his back, humming quiet little lullabies, and that he’s hiccupping, cheeks slick with tears. Scott’s numb. He can’t think, can’t feel, just _can’t._

It’s over ten minutes before he pulls himself together enough to look back up at Esther, who has an unreadable, but not unkind expression on her face. She doesn’t look exasperated or angry or even pitying. She’s just… there, and it soothes Scott a little.

“I’m sorry,” Scott whispers into the space between them.

Esther tilts his head up so their gazes meet. “Scott. Listen to me.”

And it doesn’t sound like Esther’s mad or anything, so Scott listens.

“Look. I’m not mad, because we all fuck things up, and you didn’t know any better because you don’t know Mitch all that well. I asked a few times before I learned, and guess what he did?”

Scott stays quiet.

“He straight up walked out of our shelter and disappeared for three days. I was worried sick, but he came back eventually. Mitch is complicated, and he has a lot of burdens even I don’t know about, so don’t beat yourself up, Scott.”

Scott startles a little at how perceptive she is. “I’m…not.”

Esther smiles sadly. “You are, sweetheart. I can see it clear as day, you know. I’m gonna go talk to Mitch,  but don’t  be too hard on yourself. You’re trying, and I appreciate it. Mitch does, too, but he doesn’t know how to say it, so he pushes you away. It’s okay. You’ll both warm up to each other eventually.”

Scott watches as she stands and twists the handle of the door, leaving it open for Avi, Kirstie, and Kevin, who were sitting in the hallway in quiet conversation. Scott sees the way they all look up as Esther steps between their feet to get outside, probably to find Mitch. Scott can see, and he can watch, but he’s still numb. He still can’t process what’s happening. It’s like he sees things that don’t register in his head, that just pass straight through him. He stands up, and almost keels over again from the headrush. Kirstie’s at his side quickly, a steadying arm around his waist.

“Are you alright, Scott?” Kevin asks.

Scott nods, but he doesn’t know, really. He doesn’t know if he’ll be okay, because it’s going to happen again, isn’t it, and no one’s going to be so forgiving next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading~  
> courtney @kirstinstaylors ([ tumblr ](http://kirstinstaylors.tumblr.com)) made an amazing edit that i love so much omg ([ it's here ](http://kirstinstaylors.tumblr.com/post/150237077290/like-were-all-gonna-make-it-by-smollest-louis))
> 
> huge thanks to everyone for sticking around even with my terrible update schedule :P
> 
> -
> 
> alright now it's your turn to say things because i've said way too much rip
> 
> okay so basically i would love more feedback as to what you all want to see because i'm not really sure where i'm going to go with this fic and i'm super open to suggestions right now! where do you want to see scomiche end up? what about kirstie and esther? avi? kevin? any major plot things you want written in?  
> (((all i'm not gonna write is smut because i'm terrible at it)))
> 
> more questions:  
> do you prefer shorter updates (1k~ or so words per chapter) that should be closer together (twice a month? once a month???? idk i'm slow sorry)? or would you prefer longer updates (2k+ words per chapter) father apart (once every month and a half???? whenever i deem i have a good stopping point which could be like a week or three months???????????)?
> 
> last question sorry there's a lot on my mind this week and i want to give all of you a chance to chime in  
> would anyone be interested in a esther/kirstie (side scomiche) christmas fic? like those one-update-a-day fics until christmas/new years? i've really fallen in love with that particular ship and i want to write more if people want to read it.
> 
> if you have any answers to my many questions (what is the meaning of life), leave a comment!
> 
> love you all!


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bunch of things happen probably too fast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: PHYSICAL ABUSE BY ORIGINAL CHARACTER TO ORIGINAL CHARACTER
> 
> hi holy shit second update that's not a month later  
> i updated the tags, but just in case, there is actual violence in this chapter involving fights and character injuries. TW for physical abuse (OMC to OMC) at the end of the chapter.  
> message me [ here ](http://babylxxrry.tumblr.com) if you're concerned about the content of this chapter or any other chapters (or even just to talk!)
> 
> enjoy- this one's kind of a huuuuuge plot point ;)

They don’t talk about it. None of them do. No one asks what happened or if they need help. No one tries to push. Everyone just… keeps going. That’s what they’ve all got to do because in this damned city, that’s all they _can_ do. It’s all they can do to survive and keep moving, in this case emotionally, not physically. The basement has become their base- their home, for some. They still sleep in the same room, in the same order as that first night, and it’s bittersweet. It’s bittersweet because Scott gets to sleep next to Mitch every night even though they don’t really talk and honestly, Scott doesn’t sleep. He never really has, but now he’s lucky if he gets an hour every night. Most nights are spent awake, staring at the concrete ceiling and thinking. Always thinking. About inventory. About what has to happen tomorrow (he’s cleaning the bathroom tomorrow, and he has a food run first thing in the morning). Avi gave them all the general lay of the land a couple days back, and god, does it feel like such a long time since he and Mitch last talked.

It’s only been a week. A week since he fucked everything up and created this awful, painful tension between the two of them and simultaneously the six of them. It’s been an terrible week for all of them, and just as Scott stares at the familiar cracks in the ceiling and thinks it couldn’t possibly get worse, a scream rings out.

It’s Kirstie’s. Everybody’s up and armed within seconds and Avi leads the way out of the room. 

There’s a figure behind Kirstie- not a Biter, judging by its stance. It’s a human, and Esther flicks a flashlight on from the doorway. The beam lands on a man, tall and broad, though none of them are so much concerned about him as the knife he has held at Kirstie’s throat. Kirstie’s gone perfectly still, eyes flicking around desperately.

“I was wondering why this was such a nice little hidey-hole.” When the man speaks, his voice reverberates throughout the basement and Scott sees Mitch flinch out of the corner of his eye. “Now, if you’ll kindly put down those toys there,” he cocks his head towards their weapons, “We can do some talking.”

“What is there to talk about?” Avi snips, voice harsh and colder than Scott knew was possible.

The man laughs lowly. “Put those things on the floor first.”

When none of them move, the man shrugs and pushes the knife a little harder against Kirstie’s skin. She gasps as a little trickle of blood runs slowly down her neck and all of a sudden, Scott is hyperaware of everything. He can see the way the man’s hand relaxes once he’s broken the skin, the way Mitch is frozen in place, trembling breaths shaking his chest. Esther’s in the back, and a glance reveals that her eyes are wide and she looks like she’s about to fucking murder this man. Scott watches as Avi’s jaw tenses and he watches as he sees Kirstie tense her arm and Scott can’t move, can’t do a thing, until Kirstie brings her hand up. She rips the man’s arm away from her and in one fluid motion, jerks her other arm out of his grasp and ducks down as he tries to stab her with his weapon. No one moves. Time slows as she slides one of her knives from a hidden sheath in her ankle and brings it down hard on the man’s thigh. He screams and swipes at her again, catching her on the upper arm and making her drop the knife with a clatter. He’s about to go for her again when a single gunshot rings out and the man drops his knife, clutching his side as blood stains his shirt. Kevin appears behind him, pistol aimed straight at the back of his head.

Time starts again and Scott stands in the hall dumbly as Esther rushes forward to help Kirstie back into the room and Avi rushes forward to help Kevin restrain the man as he struggles to reach for his knife again. Mitch is standing next to Scott, as speechless as he is, and Scott can see him trembling. Without thinking, Scott reaches out and puts his arms around Mitch, his heart skipping a beat when Mitch turns into his embrace, arms moving to go around his waist. Scott tries to savor each precious moment of contact before Mitch is sure to push him away.

Shit, Mitch is shaking so much, and Scott can feel the hard, thin lines of his ribs under his fingertips moving as he breathes, each breath shuddery and pained . Scott leans against the wall and slides down to sit on the floor, pulling Mitch into his lap and hugging him tight.

They sit together for a few minutes, ignoring the bustle of Avi and Kevin prodding the man until he goes to that side room as Scott just holds Mitch and Mitch shakes and shakes until he finally doesn’t and he looks up with big eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Mitch whispers. “I’m really sorry.”

Scott meets his eyes and he can feel himself physically falling into this pit he’s dug himself. He swallows. Pushes that away for now. Focuses. “What for?”

“That guy… he. He’s like what- who…”

“Who, Mitch?” Scott presses. He knows he shouldn’t, but he does anyways.

Mitch takes a big breath and lets it out in a whoosh. “Cooper. Not… up for talking about it right now.”

Scott nods and tries to offer Mitch an out before it all goes downhill again. “It’s alright. We should see how Kirstie’s doing?”

Mitch nods and slides off of Scott’s lap. Scott misses the warm weight instantly and stands up reluctantly. They walk into the room to see Esther bandaging Kirstie’s arm.

“How is it?” Scott asks.

Kirstie winces as Esther accidentally tugs a little too hard as she wraps the gauze. “I’ll be alright in a week or so. It’s really just skin that got hit.”

“As long as we keep it clean and bandaged, Kirstie’s gonna be just fine,” Esther comments with a smile. “Although you did have a food run, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, it was going to be me and Scott this morning, but _that_ happened,” Kirstie nods at her arm, “so I don’t think I’m going to be able to do it.”

“Mm.” Esther hums as she thinks. “Mitchy, you go. You haven’t done a run for a few days and you need to get out. The two of you will do great together. Kir, you’re good. Go with Scott and see what’s up with the man. Mitchy, c’mere, I want to talk to you.”

Kirstie thanks Esther with a small smile before she stands up and pulls Scott out of the room. Scott closes the door and the two of them walk down to where Avi’s bandaged up the intruder’s side and thigh. He’s propped up against the wall and Kevin is leaning against the opposite wall with his pistol in hand.

Scott sees Kirstie’s hand clench as they walk into view of the man, and he grabs her wrist gently. She looks at him, lips tight.

“Don’t, Kir. I know you want to beat the shit out of him, but don’t. Be the better person here.”

Kirstie sighs and relaxes her hand even though her eyes are still cold and her chin is held a millimeter higher than usual.

“Where’s Avi?” Scott asks Kevin.

“Bathroom. Washing the blood off,” Kevin replies without taking his eyes off the man. “We’ve got a little out of him so far. He’s with a few others that have been scoping out our place for about a week. We don’t have any names yet, but there’s three other men and two women.”

Scott raises his eyebrows. “Damn. That’s the same number as us. How are there so many humans we hadn’t noticed?”

The man, who’s been watching them talk, cuts off Kevin before he can answer. “It’s because you all are a bunch of oblivious idiots. None of you noticed when one of our people, that fatass Arc, tripped over your supplies when we were scoping out the space. Not _one_ of you noticed. It was Kirstie on watch. She was inside that room down the hall to wake up Esther for the next watch, and we got a good peek of the layout of this place. It’s quite nice. Also, your solar panels out there have so much more capability- you could rewire the whole place with lights so it wouldn’t have to be so dark at night. Y’know, cooperating with us could be a good idea. You might get to live that way. By the way, look behind you. Slowly.”

Scott turns his head cautiously to see a man that reminds him of a lion- a bit on the compact side, but a lion nonetheless with a ponytail of reddish-blond hair to match- standing coolly behind him and twirling a knife between deft fingers. He cocks an eyebrow at Scott as if daring him to move.

Behind _him_ are Esther and Mitch, hands tied behind their backs and guns in their backs, courtesy of the two women- one lean and tall, like some platinum-haired lioness, and the other almost exactly like Kirstie but a little taller and with sharper features. Finally, Avi emerges from the storage room with his hands tied and a man just a little shorter than him following close behind with a gun in hand.

“Arc, get your ass over here and help me with the ropes,” the first intruder snaps. The man who came in with Avi darts over to who Scott presumes is the leader and helps him cut the ropes. Scott can’t bring himself to move, because as evidenced by the nick on Kirstie’s throat and her stab wound, these people are ruthless, and it appears that Kevin and Kirstie think the same thing too. The first thing the newly-freed man does is bring his hand up and slap Arc in the face harder than Scott has ever seen in his life. Arc doesn’t react much, just flinching as the man slaps him two, three, four more times until his nose is bleeding and his eyes are watering.

“Now that’s out of the way,” the man says, brushing Arc roughly to the side, “Let’s talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woohoo so shit's going down. there's two ways i can take this- i can make it into a much bigger conflict (aka longer fic) between the two groups, or i can minimize the effect of this new original character group. what's preferable to you?
> 
> also these new people are going to be considered original characters even though they are heavily drawing on real life people (first names too) because i've taken the real person so far out of character that it would be an insult to them to fully associate their names with these characters. 
> 
> alrighty that is it for now!
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [ ALSO YOU MIGHT HAVE NOTICED THAT THIS IS NOT THE TUMBLR ORIGINALLY LINKED TO THE FIRST CHAPTER (I CHANGED THAT ONE). THIS IS A NEW BLOG DEDICATED TO MY FICS. FOLLOW ME THERE FOR PROGRESS REPORTS AND MAYBE EVENTUALLY DRABBLES :D](http://babylxxrry.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> also i should note that the rating has been updated to Explicit from Mature because of the fight scene(s)


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea what the fuck i'm doing with this story anymore it was supposed to be short and fun and not this angstfest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi this has kind of become something that could end up really huge or just end up folding idfk there's nothing near a satisfactory ending i've come up with yet so 
> 
> have fun- this chapter is kind of a mess and shit goes down again?

Scott lets his hands be zip-tied and goes to sit when and where they order him to- with his back against the far wall of the back room where the man was originally tied. They put Mitch on his left, Kirstie on his right, and Esther, Kevin, and Avi to Kirstie’s right. Mitch is shaking again, ever so slightly, and Scott wants to hold him tight, but he can’t. He does the next best thing and presses his arm gently against Mitch’s shoulder. Mitch leans into the pressure and drops his head onto Scott’s shoulder, and Scott wants to cry because of all the times they started getting comfortable with each other again, did it really have to be when they were probably about to die at the hands of intruders?

Said intruders have apparently set themselves up in the basement. Scott watches as they bring his backpack along with the others’ and toss them into the corner of the room. One of the women- the shorter one, and the man called Arc are apparently going to be watching them, as they’ve settled themselves in the doorway. They’re conversing in hushed tones as Scott tries his best to listen in.

“...but would he really kill them?” Arc is saying. His nose has stopped bleeding, but his face is bruised, for sure.

The woman shrugs. “Probably, knowing him. “ She whispers something that Scott can’t catch before she turns back to them.

“You, with the piercings,” she gestures with her gun at Kirstie. “Tell me about the lot of you, and maybe I’ll talk to Chris about not killing you.”

Kirstie stares at her, eyes icy and defiant. “I don’t think you’re going to do that.”

The woman shrugs and flicks the gun up, shooting the wall by Kirstie’s head without a second glance. Scott gasps and Mitch turns his head into Scott’s shoulder and Avi gasps and Esther’s eyes widen. Kirstie flinches and grits her teeth.

“You missed,” she says lowly. Scott can feel the anger rolling off of her in waves, and even he’s intimidated.

The woman turns slowly. She’s fucking terrifying, eyes narrowed and knuckles white on the gun that just missed Kirstie.

“Wasn’t looking to kill, but now I regret it.”

Kirstie holds her chin high. “Well? Fucking shoot me already. I’m just an inconvenience to you.”

The woman paces closer to Kirstie, free hand in a fist and finger tight to the trigger

“Oh god, no,” Esther snaps, “What the fuck, Kir.”

“We’re gonna die anyways, right? So why not now?” Kirstie takes a pained breath as the woman prods her wounded arm with a foot. “Sorry for what I’m about to do, by the way.”

Scott watches in shocked fascination as Kirstie snaps the zip tie in one smooth motion, kisses Esther on the lips, and kicks the woman’s feet from under her all within two seconds. Arc seems as frozen as Scott feels, and Kirstie pins the struggling woman to the ground and kicks her gun away. Avi apparently has a similar idea and snaps his zip tie with a little less finesse than Kirstie. He picks up the gun that’s lying on the floor and points it straight at Arc’s head.

“Don’t move.”

Scott feels Mitch turn his head just slightly so that he can peek out of one eye and see what’s happening, and Scott nudges him.

“You holding up okay, Mitch?” Scott whispers.

Mitch nods and gestures back towards the rest of the room, where Avi and Kirstie have the two others relatively subdued. The woman is still struggling, but Arc seems to be relatively compliant.

“Avi, there’s zip ties in his back pocket,” Scott says when he notices the black plastic.

Avi grabs two and tosses two to Kirstie and they zip tie the two more securely- one tie per wrist and loop them together so they’re harder to break. When the two have been sat up against the other wall, Avi takes the woman’s knife and cuts each of their ties. Scott breathes a sigh of relief and rubs his wrists. He helps Mitch to his feet and pulls him into a hug that Mitch returns. Esther is staring at Kirstie in what appears to be disbelief, and Avi and Kevin are busy watching the two captives and checking to make sure they weren’t heard.

Scott watches in somewhat-confused glee as Esther takes four strides forward, cups Kirstie’s face in her hands, and presses their lips together. Mitch and Avi snap in appreciation in an attempt to keep it quieter, because apparently, they knew about this and they were waiting for it to happen. Scott can’t believe he didn’t see it before. There’d been little things, obviously, but Scott hadn’t seen it and he thinks he should have.

What’s _really_ interesting to Scott, though, is the look on Arc’s face as he watches the two women It’s a soft, open expression and something in his eyes suggests that he, too, left behind someone that he loved. Scott goes to sit next to him- far away enough that he’s not in any danger, but close enough that they can talk quietly.

“So… I don’t think you’re as much of a baddie as the rest of these guys,” Scott murmurs.

Arc looks at him, eyes wide. “Why?”

Scott shrugs. He thinks he can push a bit more. “There’s something about you, I guess. Tell me, is your real name really Arc?”

Arc shakes his head slowly. On his other side, the woman has her head tilted back against the wall, eyes closed. “No.”

“What’s your name, then?”

Arc glances fearfully over his shoulder to the woman, who doesn’t notice. “Anthony,” he whispers. “That’s Heather, the tall one is Chris, the other woman is Hila, and the one with the ponytail is Andrew.”

Scott blinks. He didn’t really expect such a thorough answer so fast. “Thank you.” He resolves to find a chance to talk to Anthony again later, because he has a sneaking suspicion that this man has more to him than anyone knows or expects. In a way, Scott can see a little bit of Mitch in him, in the way he carries himself and in the way he reacts to things, and Scott thinks it’s a bit sad that he’s watched Mitch enough to actually know that.

Speaking of which, Mitch is nowhere to be seen. Scott thinks he’s probably sitting somewhere- probably the supply room- to clear his head after all the stress, so he isn’t worried. Right now, he’s trying to get his own thoughts together enough to figure out the next course of action. He gets up and goes to where the other four are talking in low voices, probably about the next best thing to do.

They figure that eventually, the three others will come back and find their people missing, which means that they either need to book their asses out of there or find some way of bargaining their way out of this mess. Avi and Kevin are both for staying, Kirstie is undecided but declares that she’ll stay with Esther, Esther basically has the same mentality as Kirstie, Scott is undecided but leaning towards leaving, and no one’s seen Mitch since he was released from his zip ties, which should concern Scott more than it does.

They decide that for now, they’re gonna stay and wait to see if the three will come looking for Anthony and Heather.

In the back of his mind, Scott senses that something’s a bit wrong- that these people are smarter than he thought and that Mitch should be back, but he brushes it off, because Mitch can take care of himself, and surely, Hila, Chris, and Andrew shouldn’t be too hard to bring around with two of their team gone.

It doesn’t ease his worries, and he starts thinking again. He knows he shouldn’t, but he does- he can’t help it. He worries about their next move, he worries about Mitch, he worries about the abilities of their team compared to those of the intruders, he worries and worries and worries until one thought cuts through everything else.

_They’re better off with one less mouth, with one less body, one less opinion._

_Go._

Scott gets up and grabs his backpack. He swings it up onto his back with practiced ease and walks out of the room. No one pays any attention to him, and he doesn’t blame them.

_You’re the odd one out. Avi owns this place, Esther’s his sister, Mitch is basically Esther’s child, Kirstie’s in love with Esther, and Kevin’s actually useful._

_Go._

He walks up the stairs and out the front door of the hotel. He pauses for a moment when he thinks back for things he’s left behind, but there’s nothing that can’t be replaced or found. He has all of his weapons and at least a couple weeks of rations.

_You left your precious Mitchy. You left Kirstie, your one friend. Didn’t say a word. They’re not going to want you back now._

_Go._

Scott takes a deep breath of cold night air and starts running. His backpack bounces on his back and he ignores it. He knows he’s making too much sound and that he’s probably attracting the attention of the Bitten, but he can’t find it in him to care. He just needs to get away from everyone, from everything.

He needs to think. He needs space to think and to breathe and to think.

_They won’t miss you._

_Go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what did u think of this messy mess do u like or no  
> also i actually do have some ideas of where i want this to go. it involves more angst and more scott and less of everyone else  
> this is going all over the place is anyone still reading????
> 
> also esther/kirstie is life bye


	10. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this in forty minutes from 11:20pm to midnight during an overnight retreat i'm sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING: scott's mind being shitty to him/dark!scott  
> come talk to me if you're concerned ily be safe
> 
> sorry it's short i'm trying out ideas??
> 
>  
> 
>  this chapter is being posted earlier than i was going to in celebration of the new christmas album (HALLELUJAH IS MY FAVORITE I CANT I LOVE IT)
> 
>  
> 
> anyways  
> what the fuck is happening holy shit

Scott just runs. He runs and runs and runs to escape everything. He doesn’t know where he’s going, but he finds the abandoned highway and runs like hell itself is chasing him. He keeps his mind carefully blank and free of any thoughts until he’s ready to process the mess that is his head.

He runs until he’s at least ten miles from the old hotel, judging by the still-there road signs. He’s not anywhere he recognizes, and he thinks he probably crossed a state line at some point. It doesn’t matter now. It’s all the same to him, just roads and empty skies. He finds what looks like a small city, and there he restocks his rations and picks up a couple more changes of clothes. It’s a strangely well-stocked area for how decrepit the buildings look in the moonlight. Scott wonders if they were one of the “obedient” cities- one that evacuated overseas when they were told to rather than staying like everyone else did.

Scott does a little bit of what he would call casual parkour up between balconies and finds himself the corner of a rooftop that has its only access door blocked by rubble. He clears the small area quickly, and scans the other buildings for random Nighters roaming around. When he finds none, he drops his backpack in the highest, least-destroyed corner and sits heavily beside it. The sun is barely creeping above the horizon, and he knows it’s probably almost about six, so there should be a break in Bitten wandering around.

He makes a stupid mistake then, and he knows it the moment he does it, but there’s no going back now. He lets his mind wander to the events of the night and the events of the weeks before, and when he starts crying again, he can’t help it. He lets everything out and lets himself overthink like he’s prone to anyways.

_You left without telling anyone. They all know how much of a fucked up mess you are. They see the real monster in you, and you know it. Remember when you were going to try and make new relationships? Ha. See where that got you?_

Scott tries to argue back, but he can’t. In a way, he can see that his mind’s right. He’s fucked up, and he’s driven people away just as fast as he’s tried to open up and let people in.

_See? There’s no denying it. It’s probably better that you’re gone now. Avi and Kevin can go be nerdy over machines and Kirstie and Esther can date and Mitch. Oh, Mitch. You loved him, didn’t you? Well, you’re gone now and he’s not going to care, because he deserves the world, not the fuckup that you are. He deserves someone who can protect him, not someone with his own demons. He deserves nothing less than perfection, and you’re nowhere near that._

Scott screams until he runs out of breath. He drops his head onto his knees and hugs himself tight, because knows he has his demons and his baggage and his own problems. Mitch deserves so, so much more.

_I knew you’d see it my way._

_Get up. Keep moving._

_Farther from Mitch._

_You don’t want him to find you and think he can fix you, because you’re going to hurt him again._

_Go._

Scott gets up, pulls his backpack up again, and runs.

He runs from the darkness that is his mind, the darkness that threatens to swallow him whole if he stops moving.

He gets back on the highway and runs until the sun is high in the sky and he’s gasping for breath and he absolutely has to stop before he passes out. He wants to cry, but he’s run out of tears and all that’s left is nervous, painful energy that he can only channel into moving. He drinks a bit of water and starts running again.

He runs for his life, for his soul.

He runs for Mitch.

His stomach cries out for food and his lungs cry out for a break and his legs are straining and his heart is beating too fast but he can’t stop running, can’t stop trying to get away from his mind chasing him with its inky darkness. He can’t stop or he’s sure he’s going to break. He can’t stop.

He runs.

_Go._

His head’s light from dehydration and lack of oxygen, but he can’t stop running, or his mind catches up.

_Go._

His legs are slowing a little. They’re so heavy, _god_ , they’re so heavy.

_Go._

He tries to. His legs don’t want to cooperate and his head pounds like a jackhammer in his skull and his heart is working too hard and his throat might be bleeding now and his vision is spinning and fuzzy and he keeps on pushing because he has to.

_Go._

He trips over a stray piece of rubble and he gets up. His vision is blacking out at the edges and every time he blinks, it stays black for longer than it’s supposed to. His hands are scraped, bleeding and stinging.

_Go._

He pushes through. Pushes forward, because he has to get away from Mitch so he doesn’t hurt him. Away from everyone so he doesn’t hurt them like he did Alex and Eliza and, _god_ , Mitch.

_Go._

He tries so hard. He pushes. He takes big, gasping breaths that go nowhere.

_Just a bit father._

He can’t.

_C’mon, you’ve got to keep moving._

He can’t.

_Keep moving. Run._

He can’t.

_You will keep moving, Scott._

He can’t.

He can’t.

He drops to his knees, then his hands.

The darkness is creeping up. It’s so pretty. It’s warm and welcoming and Scott wants to sink into its embrace. It’s beautiful in its own uniquely terrifying way, the way it closes in on his vision first, then wraps his crying, aching body in its warm tendrils.

The last thing Scott feels before he loses all sense of anything is a little laugh in the back of his head.

_I won._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea what i'm doing yall
> 
> ????


	11. Part Two: The Sun Hasn't Died

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ????? what is this even

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO WE HAVE REACHED PART TWO OF THIS FIC HOLY SHIT I HAVE NO IDEA HOW MANY PARTS THERE WILL BE BUT HERE GOES NOTHING I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT IM DOING ANYMORE
> 
>  
> 
> i wrote this the second night of retreat at midnight again i'm sorry 
> 
> this is short af and lowkey trippy so

The Moon watches in dismay as the man she’s been watching lately starts running, and she can already tell it’s not going to end well.

 _Sun,_ she calls to her lover as he gazes lovingly at her from the horizon. _The man is running and he’s not happy. Please don’t be too harsh on him today, alright?_

 _Anything for you, my love,_ Sun sighs as he caresses her face with warm light that bathes her in warmth and fades her pale countenance into the light blue of the sky.

 _I’ll see you tonight, my dearest,_ she whispers as she fades to do her duty on the other side of the earth.

Sun blows her a kiss of golden rays before he starts watching this man that has his Moon so fascinated. He’s not very out of the ordinary, but Sun watches in concern as he keeps pushing himself harder than any mortal should. He’s running from something, but there’s nothing chasing him, and Sun guesses he’s probably trying to escape his problems. He dims his rays on the poor thing as much as he can without calling in the help of Clouds, but it doesn’t seem to do much

Sun watches helplessly as he does his slow, steady trek across the sky. The man collapses and gets up only to fall again within a few steps, and this time, Sun calls in one of his last favors from the Clouds and gets them to shield the man from his harsh light until he starts sinking towards the horizon again. The man still hasn’t gotten up, and although Sun has seen millions of deaths in his life, each one gives him the same painful pang as the last.

 _Hello, beautiful,_ Sun croons as his partner slowly reveals herself from the sky. _Did you see a new star?_

 _No?_ Moon whispers, confused. _There haven’t been any babies in this area for about two days._

 _I suppose your mortal is alive, then,_ Sun shrugs. _He collapsed this afternoon and I called in the second-last favor from the Clouds because if he amuses you, I don’t want him to die._

 _Thank you, darling,_ Moon smiles gently, turning her attention to the man still on the ground.

 _I’ll see you later, my love._ Sun relaxes into the horizon and Moon glows brighter in acknowledgement.

She watches the man, and she knows she can’t do anything for him. She just has to hope that someone sees and helps him. He starts stirring around three in the morning, and Moon watches curiously as he gets himself a drink of water and sits against the highway barrier, probably trying to recover.

He’s up and walking slowly by the time Sun comes to take her place, and from there, she loses track of him but she hopes he turns out okay eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ?????????????????????
> 
>  
> 
> this was such a filler and i don't even smoke but i would've had to been high af to write this 
> 
> i hate this chapter so much and i hate that it's so short i'm sorry  
> i don't know what i'm doing fuck my life i hate


	12. Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we meet someone that we all love (and someone we might not be quite as fond of, but who knows?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's just get to the chapter imma talk at the end ok?

When Scott finally opens his eyes, his head is pounding and his eyes are blurry and his ears are ringing and all he can think is _water_ , so he gropes around for his backpack, where he knows he has a few bottles.

His hand falls on a full bottle and he sits up slowly, gulping down the entire bottle within a minute. He thinks it’s about two or three in the morning, and his whole body is sore. He doesn’t really have anything in his mind, and he doesn’t really feel anything besides the pain in his body and the vague numbness in his chest. He doesn’t think of Avi or Kirstie or Kevin or Esther. He doesn’t think of Mitch.

He’s just numb right now, and he stands up and starts walking slowly, cringing at the tightness in his legs and feet. He knows he should eat sometime soon, but that’s not going to be now.

Scott walks slowly for miles and miles, through nameless towns and faceless cities that are all suspiciously devoid of life, human or otherwise. He picks up supplies here and there and he walks for god knows how many days. Each night, he picks a roof and naps on and off for four hours and then gets up and keeps walking. He doesn’t think of anything but the next step he’s going to take, the next meal he has, the next ghost town he’ll pass through.

His head has been quiet, which is comforting but also eerie in a way, like there’s about to be a storm sometime. He tries not to dwell on it.

Although he hasn’t sunk low enough to talk to himself yet, he sings. He’s always been a decent singer, and why not? It keeps his mind busy and gives him a beat to walk to. He makes up lyrics that mean nothing and he does that stupid thing he’s always loved- singing every part possible of any song he remembers.

He keeps walking for days, and although he feels free, there’s still a hollow in his chest that yearns for company, for someone to talk to. He ignores that hollow and tries to fill it with songs that don’t make sense, with words and rhythms that don’t fit quite right without another voice.

Scott’s settling in for the night in some small city rooftop when he hears a little sound. It’s a tiny, squeaky noise, and it’s coming from the corner of the roof. He goes to check it out, and what he finds is the first sign of life since the very few Bitten he’d met a few towns back. It’s one of those hairless cats- Sphinx cats, Scott thinks they’re called. This one is a little bit skin and bones, which isn’t particularly surprising. It’s docile enough and lets Scott pick it up. Scott checks its hind end and confirms that this little thing is a male cat. When he puts him down, he rubs against Scott’s legs and follows him back to his backpack.

“Hey, buddy,” Scott says softly as the cat climbs into his lap and kneads his thigh contentedly. “Are you hungry?”

The cat meows at him.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Scott reaches over to his backpack without jostling the cat off his lap. He roots around for the solitary can of tuna he picked up yesterday and opens it. The cat’s ears perk up at the sound of the tin, and Scott laughs a little, the first in however long it’s been since he left the groups. He cringes at the thought and scoops out a little bit of food from the tin rather than give the whole thing.

The cat licks it all up within a minute and Scott pours him some water, which is lapped up quickly.

“Alright, kitty, I’m gonna name you and you’re gonna help me, got it?”

The cat just looks at him, which doesn’t surprise him.

“Okay, how about Pip?”

The cat cocks his head.

“Juniper?”

A paw lick.

“Peter?”

The cat shifts so he can lick his bits.

“Yeah, you’re right. Peter does sound like an asshole,” Scott smirks at his own (terrible) joke.

“Blue?”

The cat looks up and blinks.

“Warren?”

No response.

“Wyatt?”

The cat mrows at him and Scott nods.

“Okay, then, kitty. Your name is officially Wyatt Blue Hoying, got it?”

The cat curls up next to Scott and instantly falls asleep. Scott settles down next to him, closing his eyes for yet another try at some sleep.

Scott wakes up within four hours, which isn’t abnormal. What _is_ abnormal is that he wakes up to Wyatt sitting (not so much sitting as doing that loaf thing) on his stomach and purring happily.

“Hi there, babe. I’ve really got to pee, so if you want to get off, that’d be great.”

Wyatt opens his eyes and boops Scott’s nose with a tiny paw before continuing to sit on his stomach like a douche.

Scott groans. “Damnit, Wyatt.” He rolls onto his side so that the cat is forced to jump off.

After he takes care of his bladder, Scott gets breakfast for himself and Wyatt before he stands and stretches until he hears a loud thump on the other side of the roof. Whatever it is, it’s hidden behind some rubble and the old, decrepit AC units on the roof. Scott draws his gun and creeps towards the sound, careful to keep his footsteps light. He whips around the corner and sees Anthony crouched there, his hands up in surrender and eyes wide.

“What are you doing here?”

“Ch-Chris sent me after you and I’ve been following you for weeks. You never noticed me.”

Scott groans. “Really?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I know you wanted to go, but he… made it obvious that I needed to go,” Anthony says, turning his head so that Scott can see the healing knife gash on his cheekbone.

Bewildered, Scott reaches out with a hand and traces it, drawing back when Anthony flinches and reaches up instinctively to bat him away.

“…Sorry. But seriously? Why the fuck is this guy such an asshole? Why do you even put up with him?”

Anthony’s eyes harden. “It’s a long story, but it’s safe to say that I’m a complete idiot and people don’t mean _shit_ when they say they’ll form an ‘alliance’ with you. Right, did I mention that you don’t really try to rebel when that same person threatens to hunt you down and kill you slowly, and you know he has the guts and the skills to do so?”

Scott whistles. “Damn. Wonder what made him that way.”

Anthony shrugs, petting Wyatt when the cat wanders over. “Ex-military, dishonorable discharge for insubordination and physical assault of a senior officer. Hila let slip that he’d been hospitalized for anger issues before the apocalypse, but I’m pretty sure there’s more to it.”

“Wow. What a past.”

Wyatt steps up onto Anthony’s lap, butting his head into the man’s chest. Anthony picks him up with the careless ease of a cat owner, setting him on his shoulders and letting the cat settle there.

Scott doesn’t really know how to continue the conversation, so he turns and walks back over to his side of the roof, mind racing along with his heart. He packs quickly, then whistles at Anthony and Wyatt, who both get up and follow him.

“C’mon, we’re going back. If they want me, that’s what they’ll get.” He knows it’s a terrible idea, and that they’ll both probably die, and Kirstie and Esther and Avi and Kevin and Mitch are probably already dead, but there always comes a point in life where push comes to shove and you just have to make a decision and go with it.

Scott’s doing that now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone i know it's been a while and i kind of left you all on a cliffhanger last update, and i apologize for that. it's been a rough month, but this week is particular has just been absolute shite. this chapter has been a while coming and i feel like i'm rushing the plot, but i miss writing the others (and scott wasn't really going to leave for so long, yknow). there's going to be a lot more fluff and angst and tragic backstories (hopefully) once Scott and Anthony get back to the hotel (IF THEY DO AT ALL ;D) but you know what. it's gonna be great. it's gonna be great and it's gonna be angsty and there's gonna be more pain, i promise. hope you thought this chapter was alright aaaaand i'll see u all next update (RIP THE SCHEDULE RMR WHEN I WAS SO HOPEFUL ABOUT DOING ONE PER SATURDAY YEAH NO THAT DIED PRETTY FAST SORRY) 
> 
> ps i've been writing two other wips (one scomiche, one septiplier) so that's kind of also taking some time out of writing for this.


	13. Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> probably too many things happen but people get back together with other people and some plot-relevant backstory happens????

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of suicide (none of the main six tho don't worry)  
> my tumblr is linked in the first chapter if you want to hmu if you're concerned! (find me @babylxxry, @smollest-louis, or @rxsegxldmxtch whichever you prefer :D)
> 
>  
> 
> aye hi sorry it's been over a month (has it been two i should check yike) so more at the end

It’s an awkward quiet when they start out walking, and Scott’s mainly relying on Anthony to find their way back, because he doesn’t remember shit about where he’s been or how they’re going to get back.

“So… Did I miss a lot?”

Anthony looks up, lifting his gaze from his shoes. “I mean. It’s kind of a long story, but not much. Your bunch wasn’t particularly freaked out until about the end of the day, except the small one, Mitch. _He_ was worried about you.”

Scott raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Mitch and Kirstie were the two really concerned about  you, but Mitch especially. He’s a sweetheart.”

‘Yeah. Yeah, he is,” Scott murmurs. Out of the five of them, his logical mind dictated that Kirstie would be the one concerned about him, but neither his logical or his dark mind (which has been oddly quiet) would ever think that Mitch would be concerned about him too.

“But yeah so basically, I was still hanging around with your friends when you left, but no one was really concerned about you except Mitch and Kirstie until the end of the day when Chris ordered me to go after you. I tried to tell him that, hey, you must have left for a reason, but as this lil knife wound indicates, he wasn’t… happy about me saying that, so I packed up and came to find you. You actually weren’t hard to track, and I’ve been following you for a couple of weeks now. I was going to help you when you collapsed, but you came round before I had a chance to.”

“Mm,” Scott hums, rubbing Wyatt’s head as the cat trots along beside them. “I’m glad you got me, because I was actually not thinking straight, exactly, when I ran, so it’s probably good that I go back.”

Anthony nods and pauses at the top of a highway overpass, peering down to the road below. “We need to go down there. We can either follow this overpass to that exit there,” he points further down the road, where the on-ramp curves to merge onto the highway. “That’s probably gonna be another ten minutes of walking, or we can try and either jump this or climb down.”

Scott’s quiet for a few moments, trying to judge the distance between them and the ground. It doesn’t look like it’s going to be too far, so he shrugs. “Let’s go down here. I don’t think it’s wise to jump, but there’s an embankment over there we can try to climb down.”

“Alright. You can go first, if you want. Wyatt should be fine, and I’ll follow you.”

Scott toes his way to the edge of the embankment, kicking a piece of rock off the broken edge of the bridge. It clatters on the cracked cement below, and Scott hopes that won’t be him in a few minutes. He puts a little weight onto the edge of the bridge, and when it doesn’t give, he sighs.

“Alright, so I guess I’ll just turn around and lower myself and then drop blind?” He mutters, not to Anthony or Wyatt in particular. He turns, crouching on the edge and then lowering himself slowly until he’s hanging from his fingertips. There’s no judging how far he has to fall, and Scott curses himself for not taking more time at the gym when gyms existed as his arms start to strain. He takes a deep breath and with a prayer to any deity out there who might be listening, he lets go.

There’s a moment of breathlessness as he’s in the air, and then a pang shoots up his legs as his feet hit the ground and his knees bend and his palms smack the ground and he feels warm concrete at his side as he keels over and ends up lying on his back. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath, but when he does, he sees Anthony and Wyatt peering over the edge at him.

“You alright?” Anthony calls.

“Uh.” Scott thinks for a moment, taking inventory of all his bones and muscles. “I think so. Gonna be bruised for a while, but otherwise I’m okay. Nothing’s broken that I can feel yet.”

“Alright, I’ll jump. Watch out.”

Anthony lowers himself the same way Scott did and then drops, landing lightly on his feet and dropping into a roll, which he straightens from and dusts himself off.

“Holy shit,” Scott says. He knows his jaw is probably on the floor, but he doesn’t care, because _holy shit_. “Were you a cat in your past life or some shit?”

Anthony shrugs. “I used to be a stunt double for a couple movies. I guess it’s muscle memory?”

And the mystery thickens, because holy shit, these people have so much history that Scott hasn’t even thought to stop and think about. Anthony and his group _had lives_ before the apocalypse. Kirstie, Kevin, Avi, Esther, and Mitch had lives before this. It’s so hard for Scott to grasp at that concept, because he can’t remember a time where he was always safe, always pretty content. He only remembers a few small things and that makes him sad. He wishes he remembered his life. He can’t bring the image of his old room to mind, can’t imagine what the color of his house was, can’t remember the feeling of carpet under bare feet or cold tiles on winter mornings. It frustrates him. It makes him sad. It makes him want to keep on fucking living, because he’s going to feel those things again if it fucking kills him.

Scott shakes himself and realizes that he’s started running again, Anthony keeping pace beside him. Wyatt is bounding along beside the two of them.

“Thinking?”

Scott stops abruptly, watching as Anthony runs a few paces past before he brings himself to a stop too.

“I can’t remember what living in a home was like. I can’t remember what my house looked like. I can’t even remember what color my room was.”

Anthony sighs, taking a step closer. “I can. I miss it, and I’ll try my damn best to keep us both alive so we can have that again someday.” He pauses. “We’re almost back. Maybe a day more walking, half a day if you run like that.”

Scott looks at where Anthony is pointing. He can barely see the city over the crest of the hill of the highway they’re on, but he knows he can run it. Without a word, he breaks into a sprint, running for his life and for his friends… and for Mitch. He hasn’t thought about Mitch since he collapsed. He knows Mitch has his own story, and he knows he should learn not to push when people don’t want to talk, but for fuck’s sake, Mitch is such an interesting person and he’s the first one Scott’s ever wanted to stop moving for- the first one that’s grabbed his heart and his mind like this. Scott hopes he’s been alright for the past couple of weeks, hopes that Chris hasn’t triggered any further panic attacks, hopes Mitch is still okay.

He berates himself for that train of thought, because of course, Mitch is fine. He’s managed to keep himself safe since the apocalypse began and probably since before that. He doesn’t need a savior.

 Scott’s legs are protesting in some twisted version of déjà vu and he makes himself stop before he up and dies. Anthony and Wyatt are approaching at a much more reasonable, maintainable pace, and Scott waits for them to catch up before he joins them in the same speed.

“At this rate, we’ll probably get there by late tonight or early tomorrow morning. It’s a fine pace, so don’t push it,” Anthony cautions.

Scott wants to disobey, wants to say that, hey, he can run ahead and get there first, but he forces himself to take a breath and wait, because Anthony’s right.

They only stop briefly for a midday meal that constitutes as breakfast and lunch and half of dinner, but Anthony’s careful to keep Scott in check and to remind them to have water and give Wyatt water, which Scott is secretly thankful for, because he would have just pushed and pushed and pushed until he dropped like last time, and that’s _probably_ not healthy.

They reach the city sometime past midnight but before the sun starts rising, and there’s a suspicious lack of Nighters slouching around. They’ve slowed to a brisk walk by the time they get into the midst of the buildings.

“Where are all the Bitten?”

Anthony shrugs, directing them to turn onto a different road. “They just kind of disappeared one day after you left. Take another left here and then it’s across the street.”

Scott walks up to the hotel. The familiar broken front looks like it’s been cleaned up a little, and Scott hesitates when he reaches the door.

“Go around the back. Storage closet door is still our main entrance. Unless something happened, I don’t think there’ll be anyone on guard.” 

Scott makes his way to the back door, pushing it open to reveal the closet, which apparently has been cleaned out by one of the two groups here. He opens the closet door out to the lobby, which is just as dusty as he remembers. Here, Anthony steps in front of him.

“Let me get us downstairs. Heather will be on guard right now.” He goes to the basement door, opening it and letting them down the stairs. Wyatt bounds down just in front of Scott’s feet.

Anthony knocks once, twice, pauses, knocks three times in quick succession. The door clanks and swings open, and Anthony steps in, greeting Heather with a peck on the cheek. Scott follows awkwardly, and Heather closes the door behind them. She looks years older than when Scott saw her last, face drawn and pale.

“Scott, your people are in the supply room. Anthony, a word?”

Scott takes the few steps to the supply room door, taking a hopeful breath in before he turns the knob and pushes the door open. His first view is Avi and Kevin taking inventory of their rations. Kirstie’s cleaning an impressive assortment of weapons, among which he spots her sword. Esther’s helping her, and they’re smiling about something. It takes a moment for Scott to find Mitch, because he’s curled in the far corner, watching everyone work with a painfully neutral expression that’s so unfamiliar to Scott.

Kirstie’s the first to look up and see Scott standing in the door. Scott can see the emotional stages clear on her face as she goes through surprise, recognition, excitement, and then he has an armful of squealing Kirstie.

“Scott! You’re back!” Kirstie squeezes him tight, and he lets himself cling on.

“Hey, Scott,” Kevin pulls him into a hug when Kirstie releases him. “Missed you, ya doof.”

Avi punches Scott’s shoulder, but there’s no heat behind it. “You freaked us all out, Scooter, glad you’re back.”

Esther doesn’t even wait for Kevin to pull away before she wraps her arms around the both of them. “ I think this calls for a group hug.”

Kirstie practically jumps on them, bringing them all to the ground. Avi joins the cuddle pile of writhing, laughing arms and legs and the occasional “you just kneed me in the face, ow”. Scott wriggles out of the pile, standing up and dusting himself off.

Mitch is standing just outside of the pile. “Scott. You’re back.” His voice is soft.

“Hi, Mitch,” Scott breathes. It’s weird but oddly comforting to see Mitch again, and when he opens his arms, Mitch steps into the hug and Scott can physically _feel_ him relax, can feel the way Mitch slumps against  his chest like a puppet without strings, can feel the way Mitch’s shoulders relax and the way his hands clench in the back of Scott’s shirt like a lifeline. Scott can feel his own tension draining away, too, just by holding Mitch. He can feel the worried weight that’s been in his head melting off, sliding into oblivion for now. He can feel the pain from every bruise and ache he’s acquired over the past weeks dissipating into nothing.

Scott’s the (reluctant) one to break the hug, just because he can sense Kirstie being all bubbly and excited about something. He doesn’t let go of Mitch, though. He keeps a light hand on Mitch’s back, just there enough that it grounds them both.

“What’s up, Kirs?”

“Oh my god, okay, so you remember Chris, right? Of course you do. Anyways, did they tell you that he’s gone? We’ve been working out a deal with them, and we’ll have this place back to ourselves soon, isn’t that _great_?”

“Whoa, slow down,” Scott smiles. “Slow down and explain to me.”

“I can’t,” Kirstie says with a giddy laugh. “Esther, babe, you explain, please.”

“It’s a long story, but we have time. Go sit down, Scott.” Esther gestures over to the corner they’ve set their bedrolls up in.

Scott sheds his backpack with a sigh, jumping a little when Wyatt seems to appear out of nowhere and crawls onto his bag.

“Scott, oh my god, who’s that?” Kirstie exclaims. “He’s so cute, I love him!”

“This is Wyatt Blue, everyone. He found me at some point, I suppose. I’ll tell you guys later, though. I want to know what’s up with Chris?”

Mitch brightens at the sight of Wyatt and picks him up gently, sitting and letting the cat curl in his lap. Scott sits next to him, and everyone settles into a rough circle for Esther’s story.

“So,” she starts. “I’m just gonna rehash what’s happened since you left, Scott. Everyone else here should know mostly what I’m talking about. Scott, when you left, we didn’t think anything of it at first because we were trying to keep Anthony and Heather quiet and secured. Hila came to check on us, and Kirstie subdued her.” Here, Esther pauses and grabs Kirstie’s hand, and Kirstie drops her head onto Esther’s shoulder. “So after we have Anthony, Heather, and Hila, Chris and Andrew are bound to be concerned, right?”

Scott nods slowly, not really seeing where this is supposed to be going.

“They should be, right, but we’re just sitting there waiting and Avi and I are armed and ready to fight just in case, but there’s literally no talking, nothing coming from the room down the hall. We were going to check what was happening, but then the big door opens and Mitchy comes in and basically gives me and Avi heart attacks because we’re so tense and ready to shoot whatever. Luckily, we don’t shoot him. As of now,” Esther gives Mitch a look that Scott can tell she’s given many, many times before. Mitch just shrugs. “As of now, we still don’t know where he _was_ between you leaving and him coming back so maybe you can get him to talk.”

Scott looks at Mitch, who stares back at him with a challenge in his eyes. _I dare you to ask_. Scott promises himself that he’ll make time later to sit down and talk to ~~Mitch~~ each of them, because that’s how to make friendships work, right?

“But anyways,” Esther is saying, “Once Mitch was back, he was asking about where you were, and that’s when Kirstie and him started worrying about you. They were checking out this room to see if you were here, and Chris and Andrew caught them and brought them back to that side room. There was a fight, and luckily, all of us are okay except for a few bruises and cuts here and there, as you can see, but Andrew got shot,” she purses her lips and Kirstie leans over, whispering something into her ear that she smiles sadly at. “And he didn’t… make it. Chris sent Anthony after you with a knife to the face and then disappeared. We worked out a deal with Heather and Hila that we’d leave them alone if they’d let us stay just in this room, so they’re probably in the other room talking to Anthony right now.”

“So what happened to Chris?” This is the one point Scott’s still unsure about.

Esther sighs. “We’re not really sure, but we think Hila found him a few miles away with a hole in his head probably courtesy of himself.”

Scott winces. “Oh. So what’s going to happen next? Are they gonna stay here, or…”

“We don’t know,” Avi says after he and Esther exchange a glance. “We’re probably not moving, but we’ll have to talk to them. If they want to share with us, we’ll have to work out something, because there’s barely enough room here for the six of us, let alone another three plus a cat.”

Scott gets it. For a moment, he feels bad that he and Kirstie kind of definitely invaded Avi’s space and somewhat influenced Mitch and Esther’s arrival (although not Kevin’s), but then he remembers that Avi hasn’t actually told them to get out, and he seems like the kind of guy that would tell it to your face if he didn’t want you there. Fuck, Scott wished he himself could be like that, but noo _oo_ he just had to be the type that doesn’t really like talking about how he feels for all that he thinks about it. Fuck his life honestly. He makes another resolution to start being more transparent, but takes it back when he realizes that it would mean, in a way, letting his fond for Mitch show more than it already is, and that’s not a good idea.

Mitch nudges Scott, snapping him out of his head yet again.

“What, sorry?”

“Don’t worry about it, babe,” Esther reaches over to pat his knee. “I was just saying that we needed to talk about negotiating with the other three, but you’re in no shape to do that now. Mitchy, you two need to hash some things out, I know, so do that and then Scott, get some rest. We’ll clear out to the side room for now.” Esther basically orders, glancing at the others, who nod and stand as one. She pauses in the doorway. “We’re glad you’re back, Scott."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is 100% the longest update i've posted! i've been super duper busy and stressed and real life just hasn't been fantastic, so i apologize for SUCH a late update. if you've been keeping pretty close tabs on how i write in correspondence with real life events, you might be able to see the different chunks i've written at different times just by paying attention to the wording and sentence structures i use lmao did that make sense i need sleep bc tomorrow (i'm writing this note at 10:15ish 1.13.17) and the day after are five hour rehearsals yikes and then monday (mlk day) is a performance with a required being-there time of like seven hours so fuck me (:
> 
> thanks for reading and let me know what you think of this chapter and where the plot is going!


	14. Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things are talked about? scott realizes things????? idk???????????

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS MY BIRTHDAY! i feel old lmao
> 
>  
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: DISCUSSIONS OF ANXIETY AND PANIC/ANXIETY ATTACKS also triggers
> 
> i never do disclaimers but i felt that this chapter should have one: i know nothing/zero/nada/zilch/0 about what triggers mitch's anxiety in real life and i'm not pretending to. this is when you as a reader has to separate real life and fiction and read this mitch as a FICTIONAL MITCH BC THATS WHAT THIS FIC IS- FICTION. that's all.

The door shuts behind her, and Scott turns to Mitch, who’s still sitting next to him, fingers mindlessly caressing Wyatt’s ears. The cat is purring softly, soothing Scott.

“Esther said you had things to talk about with me.”

Mitch sighs. “Look, Esther has good intentions, and I talked to her a lot while you were gone and probably said some things I don’t mean. There’s a lot on my mind, like I know there is on yours, and not all of it is really… _safe for consumption_ , if you get my gist.”

“I get it. I think,” Scott hesitates, checking his tongue before he says something he regrets. “I think we need to talk about a couple of really basic things. Is now an okay time, like, mentally for you to talk about triggers and things like that?”

Scott can visibly see Mitch start to withdraw, and he hurries to add, “No pressure, obviously. I just want to know if there’s things I need to be careful about or anything like that.”

Mitch swallows. “Yeah, I’ll be fine now.”

“Are you sure?” Scott asks. He doesn’t need a repeat of what happened all those weeks ago.

A whispered _yeah_ , a pause. A stronger, more sure _yeah, I’m okay._

“Okay, um. Start with triggers, I guess?”

Mitch bites his bottom lip, teeth digging in until Scott thinks he’s probably broken the skin. “I’m going to be pretty direct about this, if you don’t mind. I don’t like talking about it, and when I do, I’m blunt. No sugarcoating to be found here.”

“Go ahead.”

“Before this,” Mitch waves the hand that isn’t petting Wyatt, smiling self-deprecatingly, “I had pretty bad anxiety issues. Still do, but it’s generally worse because meds and prescriptions aren’t really a thing now. Esther and I have mostly figured out ways for me to cope enough to survive day-to-day, but sometimes things get really shitty and I literally can’t so much as sit up or I’ll start having an attack. Those are the days that she takes care of me. There’s not really a specific trigger for me. It’s almost always some combination of stress, too many days of constant attentiveness, my everyday anxiety, and something big that sets it off.”

“Like Chris fighting Kirstie,” Scott murmurs.

“Kind of. That specifically, though, was something a little more personal that I’m not ready to share with you yet. No offense, but Esther’s really the only one that knows it all.”

“’s alright. Is there anything I should be especially careful about doing or saying?”

“Just don’t… like move super fast around me or threaten violence to me specifically,” Mitch grimaces. “That sounds stupid, sorry. I don’t really know what to say because hey,” he gestures at himself, “Look at this anxiety-ridden mess of tragic backstories and stupid triggers an-”

“Stop.” Scott places his hand, palm-up, on Mitch’s knee. “Give me your hand and look at me.”

Mitch puts his hand into Scott’s, and Scott closes his fingers gently around the cold, thin hand. “I don’t know what your past is or what you’ve been through, but I don’t see your triggers as stupid because if they trigger you, they do. They’re different for everyone, so don’t look at them as stupid. As for your anxiety, I can’t help you with that, but as far as I know, you didn’t _choose_ to be dealt the hand you have to play. You’re playing that hand so much better than I would have, and I’m proud of you for that.”

Scott scans Mitch’s face, trying to determine what he’s thinking. There are tear tracks on his cheeks and unshed tears making his eyes bright, but otherwise, his face is neutral.

“I- Scott. Um.” Mitch squeezes Scott’s hand, and tingles shoot up Scott’s arm. “Thank you. Thank you for saying that. Whenever people used to hear about my triggers or all the shit that is my life, it’d always be ‘oh, I’m so sorry’ or ‘don’t be so sensitive!’ No one’s ever told me any of what you just said.”

“Can I hug you?” Scott asks, hoping the answer is yes.

Mitch tips Wyatt off his lap, wrapping his arms around Scott, who returns the hug, reveling in the way that whenever they’re close like this, his mind stops overthinking and just lets him breathe for a moment.

It feels like it’s forever and too soon when Mitch lets go. “I feel so much better now that you know,” he confesses softy. “I don’t like hiding a lot of things, even though I do. Um, before I forget, do you have any triggers or anything I should know about?”

“I mean, not really? I’m not really comfortable with talking about my past, I suppose. I just don’t remember much of it at all and it makes me sad and sends me into a spiral of thinking, which, as you’ve seen, never leads to anything good.”

“I gotcha. Good to know. We should go find the others and let them know that we’re done talking.”

Scott stands up, brushing himself off before offering a hand to Mitch, pulling him up. He’s lighter than Scott thought, and Mitch kind of crashes into his chest because he pulled too hard.

Scott can feel a blush crawl up his neck. “Sorry.”

Mitch smiles, dimples making an appearance and consequently melting Scott’s heart. “Don’t worry about it.”

He walks to the door, opening it and calling something quietly that Scott can’t quite pick up. The others come into the room a few seconds later, and Esther comes over to Scott.

“Did you two get a chance to talk some things out?”

“He just clarified his triggers and the things I should be careful about doing and saying. Nothing really specific yet.”

Esther nods. “Good. It took me a while to even get him that far, so the fact that you’ve already got him there after maybe a few solid days of friendship total is really good.”

Scott nods, and he can’t help when his eyes automatically find Mitch at the edge of the group of others, listening to their conversations and adding the occasional quiet comment or observation. He’s so pretty in his own way- strong lines to his nose and jaw and cheekbones, but soft eyes and a soft voice all contained in a small, thin figure that Scott knows can be so much tougher than he looks. Like this, though, swathed in a big, tattered t-shirt and skinnies clinging to his legs, he looks fragile, breakable, and all Scott wants to do is protect him from the world and its horrors.

“You love him a lot, don’t you,” Esther says softly, turning Scott’s attention back to her. It’s not a question.

“I-” Scott doesn’t really know how to respond. He doesn’t want to say yes, because that means he has to face it, but he can’t say no, because then he’d be lying. He _does_ love Mitch a lot, though, as both a friend and probably as something more. Scott’s been in love before, and he thinks the only reason those times didn’t feel the same is because this is so much more intense. He knows this is something he’s thought time and time again, but Mitch has quite literally grabbed him by the heart and isn’t letting go soon.

“It’s okay, babe, I won’t push because I know what you’re feeling.” Esther murmurs. “I know. I’d tell you more, I really would, but you two haven’t gotten there yet. You will, trust me.”

Scott lets a small smile slide onto his face. “Thanks, Esther.”

“Anytime, love. Go take a nap, alright? We’ll be a bit quieter and we won’t go talk to the three until you wake up and have had a chance to properly talk it out with us, okay?”

Scott nods. “Alright.” He pauses, considers his next words. “Thanks, love you.”

Esther beams. “Love you too. Now go sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know what i'm doing with this fic ok it's gonna go somewhere but it's going much faster than it probably should so idk maybe expect some filler chapters after the next one???????? dunno :/  
> i mean def expect more angst for sure but besides that idk man
> 
> happy birthday me.
> 
> i was also oddly nervous to post this one idk let me know if it was terrible???

**Author's Note:**

> lemme know if you want to see more of this!!  
> thanks for reading :)  
> [ my tumblr ](https://smollest-louis.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> edit 6.8.16: please comment if you would like to see more! :)
> 
>  
> 
> edit 9.26.16: HI HI HI I'VE MADE A NEW TUMBLR JUST FOR FIC GO FIND ME HERE [ my tumblr ](https://babylxxrry.tumblr.com)


End file.
